DUNBAR'S 



COMPLETE 



Handbook of Etiquett 



Clear and Concise Directions for Correct Manners, 

Conversation, Letters op Introduction, Dinner 

Parties, Visiting, Travelling, Dancing, 

Dress, Table-Talk, Anecdote, Bridal 

Etiquette, Etc., Etc. 



By M. 0. DUNBAR. 




ITsw Yore.: 



excelsior publishing house, 

29 and 31 Beekman Street. 






COPYRIGHT, 1834, 

BY 

EXCELSIOR PUBLISHING HOUSE. 



PREFACE. 



This little work goes forth with only one purpose, to 
be a useful and reliable hand-book on the present Laws 
and Usages of Polite Society. And we hope and be- 
lieve that it will be found in all respects a trusty and 
pleasant friend. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

Introduction 7 

Bodily Deportment 21 

Position of the Body 22 

The Head 22 

The Tongue 23 

The Hand 24 

The Etiquette of Conversation 64 

Prudence in Conversation 66 

Useful Hints for Conversation 72 

The Topics of Conversation 94 

Good Taste 25 

The Manner of Speaking 27 

Speak Grammatically 29 

Egotism 3 2 

Memory 3 2 

Truth 33 

The Splendid Speaker 33 

Self- Respect 35 

Modesty 3 6 

Boldness • 37 

■ Forwardness 3$ 

Diffidence 39 

Civility 39 

-Attention 4° 

Large Talk and Small Talk 41 

Anecdote 43 

Punning ■ • ■ 44 

* Laughter 45 

Table Talk 47 



6 CONTENTS. 

After Dinner 49 

Accomplishments 50 

Pedantry 53 

Social Characters 58 

The Ladies 61 

How to Dress 62 

Dancing 63 

Letters of Introduction 108 

Dinner Parties 138 

Visiting 124 

Travelling 106 

Marriage Ceremony and Reception Note 113 

Marriage Announcement 117 

Bridal Etiquette 175 

Familiar Notes 115 

Golden Wedding 118 

Anniversary Weddings 119 

Invitations 119 

The Ball 130 

Etiquette for Funerals 182 



INTR OD UC TION. 



The rules of etiquette are not always arbitrary decrees 
but have their foundation, like true politeness, in Chris- 
tian principle. Consideration for the feeling of others, 
is the mainspring of the machinery of society. There 
is certainly nothing which adds more grace to charac- 
ter than these bien-seances of politeness. The defer- 
ence to age, the courtesy to women, the respect to 
equals and inferiors, the little thoughtful acts that put 
one at his ease, the deferential listening while another 
speaks, the patience with the loud and wearisorne talker, 
and a hundred other courtesies, done simply and with- 
out ostentation, naturally flow from the source of social 
happiness, — an unselfish spirit. 

To give some examples : Do not press forward to 
select for yourself the best place at a public entertain- 
ment, nor proclaim with corrugated brow and loud 
whisper your disapprobation of a more successful 
pusher. At table, do noc express your dislike of food, 
nor imperil your reputation by pretending to be fond 
of every dish. Eat quietly a little and criticise not, as 
that pretty baby creature did whom Wilson had in- 
vited to dinner. She was helped to something that she 
evidently did not like, but she picked up her fork and 
separated a morsel and put it in her mouth. The host- 



8 INTRODUCTION. 

ess soon discovered that the little lady did not enjoy 
the food, so she had the plate changed and something 
else substituted. Not a word was spoken referring to 
the effort. The training of the little woman by her 
lady mother had begun early. 

Always answer a note or acknowledge a courteous 
act immediately on reception. It would be rudeness 
for you to be silent if one addressed you by speech ; it 
is just as rude not to reply to a note or invitation, or 
on receiving a favor or a present. And never omit after 
a visit of any length to advise your entertainers of your 
safe arrival at your destination, and convey your 
thanks for their hospitality. 

We recall an instance in which a person was mis- 
judged for years, because she had neglected to ac- 
knowledge the receipt of a present. A beloved old 
lady, who was herself a model of good breeding, tak- 
ing a fancy to a young girl who was almost a stranger 
to her, had sent as a small remembrance a wedding pres- 
ent of a prayer-book. The old lady never received 
one word of acknowledgment, and put down the neg- 
lect to her usual horror — " Young America ! " I often 
heard her say, " that girl did not care a straw for the 
book I sent her ! " Years after the dear old lady had 
left us forever, I became intimate at the house of the 
young girl, now a mother of a family, and on her book- 
rack, hunting for a volume one day, I came across this 
prayer-book, worn with constant use. " Do you know 
that book ? " asked she ; " I think more of it than of any 

other. Dear Mrs. gave it to me, and I was so 

touched by her remembrance of me. So lovely in her ! 
I have used it ever since for my own private prayers ! " 



INTRODUCTION. 9 

A few words of acknowledgment with her warm thanks 
would have pleased the giver and saved the recipient 
from many years of false judgment. 

Sometimes we are impolite from thoughtlessness, 
oftener from bashfulness : but if our courtesy is based 
on the broad Christian Golden Rule, we shall never for- 
get and we shall conquer our timidity by the stronger 
principle of duty. Polish, to be sure, may be used as a 
cover to gloss vice, but this being merely superficial 
must always be shallow and easily seen through, and 
if beneath it there appears no sterling substance, the 
judicious observer can have only one impression forced 
upon his mind, and that cannot be favorable to a 
vicious man, however polished he be. 

Now, sir, the first thing for you to do is to make your- 
self a man. Manliness is the backbone of our nature. 
All other qualities distribute themselves round this. 
Man means thinker, so that to be a man you must be 
able to think, and to prove and steady your thoughts by 
bringing them in contact with the thoughts of others 
through reading and conversation. Besides having a 
good sound head, your heart must also be " in the right 
place." And I can wish your heart no healthier beat 
than that caused by the pure blood of Christianity. A 
thoroughly Christian man cannot but be the best mate- 
rial out of which to form the thoroughly polite man. 
Remember we are exceedingly anxious to avoid any- 
thing like false polish. The saying is common but very 
true, " All is not gold that glitters." This may suggest 
as true a saying, " All that shines in society does not 
necessarily shine to please." 

If then true and thorough thinking be the generator 



10 INTRODUCTION. 

of true manliness, let us devote our attention in the first 
place to Thought and Thinking. 

It is evident the most illiterate can think. Thinking, 
in fact, is the very intelligence of a man — the difference 
which distinguishes him from the brute creation. 
Through this power of thinking the most illiterate can 
become not only literate or learned, but also producers 
of thought themselves. It is thinking and not learning 
merely that improves our mind and leads us on to dis- 
tinction. " A grain of reason is worth a ton of mem- 
ory." Still, the acquisition of thought elaborated by 
others is absolutely necessary, and if a man is not " well 
read " he is not up to the mark of what is considered 
good society. The fact is, we must be scholars, though 
not in the old pedantic sense of the term. Some folks' 
idea of a scholar is one who has so many thoughts 
belonging to other people stored away in his mind that 
he has no room for any of his own, or one who can ap- 
pend a scholar's title to the end of his name. As to 
the first, he need not be a scholar merely, and as to the 
second, we would no more inculcate blind admiration 
for the scholastic titles than for the social ones, but 
would advise rather the title to be weighed by the man 
than the man by the title. To every right thinking 
person the most distinguished man is he who leads the 
most divine life, and the man that leads the divine life 
is the man who by honest searching finds out the divine 
ideas, appropriates them through the alembic of his 
mind as thought, and gives an earnest of his conviction 
in fervent action. For this high purpose 

" All the world's a school, 
And all the men and women merely scholars." 



INTRODUCTION. I I 

There are books in the running brooks, and in stones, 
not sermons merely, but a great material revelation of 
the Creator's handiwork with myriads of His ideas 
stamped upon it in splendid hieroglyphics. Words- 
worth truly says what St. Bernard indeed said long ago 
in another form : — 

" An impulse from a vernal wood 
Will teach you more of man, 
Of moral evil and of good, 
Than all the sages can." 

Books contain what our predecessors have learned in 
this great school, and from these we obtain what we 
require for the furnishing of our minds. The school- 
ing of a man ambitious of distinguishing himself is 
never finished. He is always learning, and all things 
minister to his purpose. But he makes use of that 
chiefly which man has mastered and made his own, and 
transported t6 the world of thought. This world of 
thought is to be found chiefly in books, and 

" Books, we know, 
Are a substantial world, both pure and good." 

So felt the wise and thoughtful Wordsworth, and so 
feels every man who has built for himself a habitation 
in the wonderful world of books. But all locations are 
not adapted for men in general. Mental habits and 
tastes differ, and so a location wherein one man may 
flourish another may starve. Special tastes affect 
special settlements. 

But there is a district in which all men have a com- 
mon, a radical, a necessary interest. It is that which 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

we denote, par excellence, "Literature." We mean the 
literature of humanity, as contradistinguished from the 
special literatures of particular sciences. 

Layer after layer of thought has been deposited by 
busy workers since time and thought began to exist, 
and we of the present day form our soils and grow our 
thoughts on the strata of the past. 

The student of this literature does not study it 
merely as an amusement, or as an accomplishment, or 
as a means of winning his bread, but as a revelation of 
thought and feeling, which through faith in the true 
and the good elevates him to a higher stage of being. 
There have been men who have groaned under the 
weight and mystery of thought as under a curse ; who 
having yearned for a hold upon the Infinite, have been 
thrust down by a withering negation of their hopes 
sinking in a not unaccountable recoil from their over- 
ambilious height to the lowest depth of loathing for 
that which, legitimately used, is man's distinctive glory. 
But such a man, " burthened with the weight of 
thought " to such an issue is rare, and need not deter 
the student from risking the darling beliefs of his heart 
in this pure human atmosphere. The same benignant 
sun shines here as in the world of thought and feeling 
and eternal providence revealed in Holy Writ. But 
there is more needed than books, and the reading, and 
the understanding, and the proper use of them. There 
are the powers of the will as well as those of the un- 
derstanding to be exercised. The impulse to action 
must be trained and put under proper control. Man 
is an ethical as well as a logical being, and indeed it is 
this aspect of him which is chiefly presented to the 



INTRODUCTION. 1 3 

public eye. The manner in which a person acts is at 
once seen and criticised, while the reason or motive 
of action is not so immediately apparent. 

But this logical and ethical being works through an 
organized physical being, upon the sound and healthy 
condition of which latter the degree and the quality of 
power in the former in a very great measure depend. 
The human body is a living structure, within which the 
vital functions are unceasingly performed by the organs 
of life, in obedience to physical laws, the action of 
which we can regulate so as to give the whole system 
the greatest possible amount of active vigor and power. 
This it is the duty of every person to become ac- 
quainted with. Every one should know and obey the 
physical as well as the moral commands of God ; and 
if he disobey them, he commits a physical sin which 
carries its own punishment with it. Excess in eating 
or drinking, improper exposure to intense cold or heat, 
want of cleanliness, vicious physical habits, are physi- 
cal sins, and we are punished by physical debility, in- 
flammatory diseases and paralysis — to say nothing of 
intellectual and moral punishment in intimate connec- 
tion with these. 

These physical laws, then, we ought to become ac- 
quainted with, and use them in regulating our physical 
conduct. We must conduct ourselves in obedience to 
their dictates, not only at stated times, when we are 
being trained by physical exercises, but at all times. 
They must become habits, for then alone can they have 
continuous power. 

Thus alone can be attained " the healthy mind in the 
healthy body," which is rightly asserted to be indispen- 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

sable to every man who would possess the highest pow- 
ers of thought and action. We insist upon these thus 
seriously because we are aware that the force and the 
success of our aims depend very much upon the strength 
and vigor of the power that directs it. 

To shine as a man of merit you must be necessarily 
a gentleman. Now what is a gentleman ? If you look 
at the word it will tell you so far. As we have already 
said, you must be a man, but more than this, you must 
be a gentleman. Not a man of birth, as is sometimes 
meant by gentle, but a man of culture and refinement ; 
such culture and refinement as are within the reach of 
every man who chooses to make the necessary effort to 
acquire them. Is not the highest praise you hear be- 
stowed upon a man in society, " He is a thorough gen- 
tleman " ? When you say that of a man, you feel that 
you are tersely according him in that one word every- 
thing that is becoming a man. You never think, of 
adding more when you have said that. On the other 
hand, don't you sum up the essence of all that is un- 
manly, ungenerous, and what is pithily, though some- 
what vulgarly termed " shabby," in that final exclama- 
tion, " He is no gentleman " ? 

I dare say you know pretty well what it is to be no 
gentleman. That expression comprehends cowards, 
blackguards, braggarts, and all those who have a " mean 
spirit," though polished with the most distinguished 
lustre of manner, and shining with the most splendid 
ornaments. 



INTRODUCTION. 1 5 

48 The churl in spirit, up or down 

Along the scale of ranks through all 
To who may grasp a golden ball, 
By blood a king, at heart a clown. 

The churl in spirit, howe'er he veil 
His want in forms for fashion's sake, 
Will let his coltish nature break 

At seasons through the gilded pale. 

For who can always act ? But he 
To whom a thousand memories call, 
Not being less but more than all 

The gentleness he seems to be." 

The " grand old name of gentleman " is within the 
reach of every one who chooses to cultivate the quali- 
ties necessary for the title. The patent is held imme- 
diately from God Almighty, and men recognize and al- 
low it wherever visible. It is a passport in all societies 
to the affectionate homage of all true hearts. He who 
wears the star of the order will ever find himself re- 
spected and admired, the " favorite of fairest tongues,'* 
and the " cynosure of neighboring eyes." 

Such distinctions have even been stamped into per- 
manent form, the first grade of which, " Baron," simply 
means " a man." " Raised to the peerage " is the high- 
est honor attainable, and it is an honor indeed- when 
the title is grounded on deserving action. The great 
absurdity about our conventional peerage is the mak- 
ing it hereditary. Ample proof of this may be found in 
the frequent difference between the names and the 
things. 



10 INTRODUCTION. 

" Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord, 

Wha struts and stares, an' a' that, 
Tho' hundreds worship at his word 
He's but a coof for a' that. 

The rank is but the guinea's stamp, 
The man's the gowd for a' that." 

Fancy a young " divine " heiring his father's Doctor- 
ship of Divinity. He may succeed to his money, and 
in a quiet wayto his unprinted sermons, but the title he 
must win for himself, and very properly so. Let us not 
be misunderstood, however. Nobility is in itself a rea- 
sonable thing — it is the sham that is contemptible. No- 
bleman and noble man often mean two very different 
things. 

The dignity of simple manliness is being more and 
more appreciated by us. Artificial distinctions — such 
as nobleman, gentleman, workman — differ only in de- 
gree, not in kind. A man is the essential basis of all 
three. The qualifying terms are artificial and conven- 
tional, but legitimate enough in the nature of the thing 
itself. Manliness, however, is the body and soul, the 
qualifications are but the drapery. Yet let us not scorn 
what derives its existence from the generous heart of 
humanity to honor and distinguish its finest develop- 
ments. The workman is the essence of all the others, 
and never disappears in them. The ^;^man* is but 
the workman polished to do the work more elegantly 
and more powerfully, and the nobleman especially should 

* The term gentle of course refers to birth. But shall that birth 
be the accidental social class-birth of the mortal body, or the 
" second birth " of the immortal soul ? 



INTRODUCTION. 1 7 

be the man, known and acknowledged to be a duke or 
leader of men, wherever there is true work to be 
done. 

Providence allots us different spheres of action ; but 
a king can be no more a man than you or I can, and as 
men we all stand in the eye of the Great Monarch of 
all. We are all peers or equals in so far as the great 
duties are concerned. The humblest man can do his 
duty, and the most powerful prince can do no more. 
There must be a division of labor. The work may dif- 
fer in kind and degree, but let each man work with his 
utmost ability, aiming the while at his utmost attainment 
of art, and he may safely leave the issues of life with 
his Creator. He is just, and assuredly will not scorn 
the meanest worker out of His providence. It is only 
in the eye of man that the difference of the labor as- 
sumes so much importance. 

Thank God ! man does not need a pedigree of man's 
making to make him truly noble ; you or I, dear reader, 
may be as noble as the proudest aristocrat of the realm. 
There is a nobility of thought and aspiration infinitely 
transcending the nobility of mere flesh and blood. My 
boast of heraldry, if I choose to vaunt it, cannot be 
eclipsed by the most brilliant roll of titled ancestry. 
Flesh and blood is but a brute view of such a noble 
matter. I would rather have the thought of a Plato 
or a Socrates prompt the energy of my brain, the emo- 
tion of a Rousseau or a Burns quicken the pulses of 
my heart, and (in this aspiring above all human sources) 
the love of Jesus Christ transfiguring all my nature 
with the grace of God, than claim kindred with the dain- 
tiest bit of flesh and blood in the land. 



18 INTRODUCTION. 

" Howe'er it be, it seems to me 
'Tis only noble to be good ; 
Kind hearts are more than coronets. 
And simple faith than Norman blood." 

Reading, then, and digesting what we have read, 
thereby appropriating the good and the power in what 
we have read, forms one of the great sources whence 
we draw our power to make a figure in the world. 
Over and above this, .however, we must have the power 
to make a proper use of what we have acquired, and 
be able to produce it when it is required in conversa- 
tion or our intercourse with the world. 

Conversation is simply the interchange of thought, 
and if you desire to converse successfully you must 
have opinions worth the giving. Small thoughts may 
do well enough for small talk. We hope, however, 
you will not be content with such, but will aim at be- 
coming a being of a reasonable discourse that looks 
before and after. " The gift of speech," says Hervey, 
" is the great prerogative of our rational nature. And 
it is a pity that such a superior faculty should be 
debased to the meanest purposes. Suppose all our 
stately vessels that pass and repass the ocean were to 
carry out nothing but tinsel and theatrical decorations, 
were to import nothing but glittering baubles and 
nicely fancied toys, would such a method of trading be 
well judged in itself, or beneficial in its consequences ? 
Articulate speech is the instrument of much nobler 
commerce, intended to transmit and diffuse the treas. 
ures of the mind. And will not the practice be al- 
together as injudicious, must not the issue be infinitely 
more detrimental, if this vehicle of intellectual wealth 



INTRODUCTION. 19 

be freighted only with pleasing fopperies ? " Yes ; be 
as smart and tight a craft as you please when sailing 
into the favor of society, but when you shorten sail and 
begin to trade, have something valuable under your 
upper hatches to trade with. Not that we would have 
you pedantic. Far from that. There is a golden 
mean. Be neither shallow nor profound. In the one 
case you will be considered a fool, in the other a bore. 
Do not be 

" A shallow brain behind a serious mask, 
An oracle within an empty cask. 
The solemn fop, significant and budge, 
A fool with judges, amongst fools a judge j 
He says but little, and that little said, 
Owes all its weight, like loaded dice, to lead. 
His wit invites you by his looks to come, 
But when you knock it never is at home ; 
'Tis like a parcel sent you by the stage, 
Some handsome present, as your hopes presage ; 
'Tis heavy, bulky, and bids fair to prove 
An absent friend's fidelity and love ; 
But when unpacked your disappointment groans, 
To find it stuffed with brickbats, earth, and stones." 

Conversation has another good as its result than the 
mere interchange of thought. A man thereby passes 
out in review before his own mind, as well as that of 
others, the stores he may have laid up in his memory. 
What he has acquired becomes a more powerful item 
of thought when he presses it into action in a process 
of thought or a course of argumentation. It is taking 
the dust off the furniture of his mind, and making it 
more fit for use than it was before. His ideas are all 
the healthier for the exercise they have passed through. 



20 INTRODUCTION. 

Dr. Johnson said that he gained more from conversa- 
tion than from study. Certainly conversation such as 
his was a course of study in itself, from its intrinsic 
worth and the manner in which it was conducted. It 
was a time of clubs, instituted for the very purposes of 
conversation, which there and then meant the inter- 
change of the finest thought of the time. Conversation 
at all times is one of the greatest educators of the 
mind. The conversation of our companions moulds 
us more than the lessons and lectures of our teachers. 
A man's daily conversation is the mood of his mind 
confessed before the world. The very business he is 
daily engaged in is a kind of conversation in deed and 
fact. It is an indispensable condition for him in mak- 
ing his mark in the world, and especially if he wishes 
to make that mark a distinguished one. A straightfor- 
ward doer is generally a straightforward talker, and a 
man versed in diplomatic machinery has generally 
plenty of oily speech to lubricate the working of the 
wheels. 

To know the company you are engaged with in con- 
versation is most desirable, and will contribute much 
to your success. You cannot talk successfully with a 
man unless you have some insight into his character, 
his business, his tastes, etc. Ascertain these before 
you venture far into the interchange of sympathetic 
thought, else you may come into collision, which of 
course ranks as a topic in the chapter of accidents. 
Look into people as well as at them. The more you 
know of their predominant passions, their weaknesses, 
vanities, follies, humors, the greater the power you may 
hold over them in social intercourse. If you have any 



BODILY DEPORTMENT. 21 

discernment at all you must see that to please others 
you must be continually sacrificing self. The fact is, 
that you can only raise yourself in the estimation of 
others by courteously refraining from anything that 
has the least look of raising yourself. 

BODILY DEPORTMENT. 

It is a matter of the first importance to the young 
aspirant that he attend to the training and deportment 
of his body, as well as that of his mind. Besides, his 
physical bearing has much to do with that command 
of address, which is so noted a characteristic of the 
thoroughbred gentleman. The body should be prop- 
erly "set " by gymnastics, fencing, dancing, drill, or 
other physical exercises.* Don't think you can launch 
yourself on society without previous preparation. You 
must carefully prepare yourself before you can hope to 
succeed in this world of ideas and impressions. It will 
not do to despise this, declaiming against it as artifi- 
cial. It is all art from beginning to end, though it is 
art so modelled according to nature as to be natural. 
Moreover, it is an art which must be acquired before 
it can be practised. All the parts of the body contrib- 
ute to this deportment, and it may be as well to notice 
them in detail, with this special warning, however, that 

* A simple and easily accessible means of exercise is the chest 
expander, made of vulcanized India-rubber, a pair of which may- 
be attached to your bedpost, where they conveniently hang, for 
daily morning and evening exercises. This is a decided improve- 
ment on the old method by dumb-bells, which, however, are bet- 
ter than nothing at all. 



22 THE HEAD. 

in action they are all subordinate to the impulse of the 
thought that is being expressed. If they act otherwise 
the movement is sure to be awkward or ungainly. 

POSITION OF THE BODY. 

The general position of the body should be upright, 
with the head erect, the chest expanded and well for- 
ward, the shoulders thrown back, the bust firmly yet 
lightly resting on the loins, and the whole poised on 
the legs with an elastic, easy grace. 

THE HEAD. 

The head should sway the movement of the whole 
body. From it, through the eye, radiates the entire 
meaning of the man's soul. Hence issues all true dig- 
nity, emanating from the mind that sits " throned with- 
in the ivory palace of the skull." You do not require 
to " bulk out " physically before the eye of the public 
to bear a dignified presence. Earl Russel is a dimin- 
utive person physically, but he bears himself in such a 
dignified manner that you cannot but feel the large- 
hearted, large-thoughted soul that forms his personal 
identity. Of course, a person who has a commanding 
figure has the advantage to begin with, but we mean to 
say that a good deal depends on the way you make use 
of that figure. 

The face is the index of the soul, especially in con- 
versation. By an intelligent reader, it is believed rather 
than the tongue. The tongue may temporize and dis- 
semble, but the face (and especially the eye and the 
mouth) reveals what is passing within. The old com- 
plaint of man not having a window in his breast is 



THE TONGUE. 23 

groundless, so long as you can look through man's eye 
into his soul. Let him that would hope to shine com- 
pel his features and his tongue to tell the same tale, 
and the tale will be told with effect. 

THE TONGUE. 

The tongue, as the main organ of conversation, 
deserves particular attention. We are apt to think it 
gets plenty of exercise and needs no training, but that 
is decidedly a mistake. To do its work artistically and 
methodically it must be trained, that the power to use 
it may be easy and unconstrained. This is, of course, 
especially the case, should there be some physical 
defect of the tongue impeding the utterance.* The 
material which the tongue uses to syllable into words 
is the air which we breathe. Converted into voice as 
it passes out through the throat, it is stamped into syl- 
lables by the organs of articulation, the chief of which 
is the tongue. The vocal or vowel sound must be pure 
and full, and the articulations distinct, if the thing is to 
be done properly and to the purpose. Over and above 
this, the ear has to determine and regulate the neces- 
sary cadences, and the mind to imbue the whole with 
the appropriate pathos. A considerable amount of 
practice is required here, and where practicable, regu- 
lar training should be undergone under a competent 
master, 

* Special defects claim special trainings, but in general the 
proper training is simply judicious practice. The tongue, the 
teeth, the lips, the palate, and the nose, all combine in action to 
form articulations, but the tongue, nevertheless, is the main 
organ, the others are mainly subsidiary. 



24 THE HAND. 

Next to the eye the mouth is the most expressive 
feature, and contributes very much to the style of the 
man. Like that of the eye, its expression cannot be 
easily disguised. Large mouths are generally supposed 
to be ugly, and small mouths handsome, but this is a 
mistake. There certainly is a natural proportion for 
the size of the mouth, but such petty criticism is swept 
away by the expression that may be made to play around 
it. There is to be observed even in the simple open- 
ing and shutting of the mouth a moderation that con- 
fers sweetness and grace. The mouth has a range of 
gestures of its own that must not be marred nor exag- 
gerated. Its gesture lies more with the finer muscles 
about the lips than the lever tendons of the jaws. The 
eloquence of the lips is an old theme with the poets, 
who love to delineate all that charms the eye. Virgil 
pictures Dido " hanging on the lips " of ^Eneas, as 
the handsome warrior recounts the wars of Troy; not 
that the lips themselves wrought the charm, but no 
doubt they clothed with grace to the eye riveted upon 
them the eloquent fire of the hero's soul. 



The hand has a greater range of expression than any 
other accessory of the tongue. The eye has more force, 
but the hand can vary its expression so much that 
it has even been styled a supplementary tongue. Not 
that when speaking the words should be measured out 
with a pantomimic accompaniment of the hands, but 
when the tongue is discoursing sweet sounds from the 



CONVERSATION. 25 

heart, or thrilling the air with the thunder of the soul, 
the hand should vibrate obedient to the varying im- 
pulse, telling to the eye what the tongue tells to the 
ear. Boisterous gesticulation with the hand is most 
reprehensible. Ever cultivate a quiet, dignified com- 
posure as the habit of your manner, and you can, at 
fitting opportunities, enliven that by seasonable im- 
pulses of your own, or by responding heartily to those 
of others. 

Remember through all that " the greatest art is to 
conceal the art." Never be conscious of playing your- 
self out, make what you have determined to be the 
proper thing habitual, and it will soon become natural. 

CONVERSATION. 

Whatever topic of conversation be " on the carpet " 
give it your consideration to the utmost of your ability. 
Neglect or scorn will alienate the hearts of all engaged. 
Do not be so much inclined to contradict the speaker, 
as to approve of what you consider right in what he 
has spoken. If, however, he has said what ought to be 
contradicted, do it in a manner calculated not to give 
offence. If the speaker be obscure in what he has 
said, do not charge him with mystification. Throw the 
blame rather on your own want of comprehension, and 
ask him to enlighten you. Even when a speaker from 
want of knowledge of his subject talks what to you 
appears downright nonsense, do not snub him with an 
uncourteous expression of the thought in your mind. 
If it be necessary to correct him, do it in a kindly way 
so as not to hurt his feelings. 



26 CONVERSATION. 

When your are compelled to dissent from anything 
that has been said, state first how far you agree with 
the speaker, and how happy you are to accord with 
him so far, then how unwilling you are to differ with 
him, did not what you consider truth constrain you, 
and lead you to adopt such or such an opinion. 
Let your opinion also be couched in the least repul- 
sive form, the words being few and gentle. Be sure 
to let the speaker finish what he is saying before you 
attempt to answer or reply to it. Remember what 
Solomon has said, " He that answereth a matter before 
he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him." 

Conversation generally should be put in the form of 
propositions or thought proposed rather than dictatorial 
assertions, for it is a general contribution of talk, not 
a lesson, a sermon, or a lecture. There is a time 
" when a fool should be answered according to his folly, 
lest he be wise in his own conceit." This must be 
done judiciously, however, and only when the folly is 
flagrant and annoying. 

Should you be listening to one who has a diffuse 
and magniloquent style of expressing himself, condense 
his statements, and ask him if that is what he means, 
then proceed to answer him. This mode of correction 
will give him the hint more politely, and in such a way 
that he need not take offence. The matter in hand 
will also be more likely to receive a speedier solution. 
Learn to bear contradiction with patience and good 
temper. Listen candidly and with consideration to all 
that is being said on the subject in hand ; weigh it 
well and with justice, and show that you have taken it 
into account in the determination of your opinion. 



MANNER OF SPEAKING. 2*] 

Never anticipate judgment. That would show either 
that you were indifferent to the opinions of the others, 
or that you questioned their judgment, or that you were 
nailed down to a judgment probably not of your own 
making. 

THE MANNER OF SPEAKING. 

Before beginning to speak with any one, note the ex- 
pression of his face. If it be sad, do not begin by 
breaking a jest with him ; if merry, do net begin by 
sighing out a complaint. Suit yourself to your man, 
and then you may hope to begin successfully. 

Watch the effect of your words through his face. 
That is where you must read the result whether success- 
ful or not. All the time you are talking you must wait 
on him also with your eye, so as to be guided in what 
it would be judicious to say next. It is a kind of fenc- 
ing with the tongue, with the eye as guide and guard. 

As a general rule, it is wise to shun everything in 
conversation upon which the company may be likely to 
differ seriously. Politics and religion generally come 
under this head. Politics maybe made to assume a 
phase that is by no means reprehensible, as a policy of 
another nation in which no one present is immediately 
interested vitally. What is general in religion — what 
intimately concerns religious morality is a legitimate 
enough topic. Especially what bears upon Christian 
manliness must be one of the noblest topics any com- 
pany can talk about, but cant, dogma, special creeds, 
questionable experiences, and such like, must never be 
entered on. 



28 MANNER OF SPEAKING. 

Though you should have the soundest reason on 
your side, yield with a good grace when you see that 
the discussion is becoming irritating, and likely to lead 
to downright quarrel. You will thereby conciliate 
your opponent, who, you may be sure, will not on any 
terms allow himself to be talked into the right, seeing 
that he has lost his temper, which means that for the 
time being he has actually lost his reason. You would 
have no objection to give in to the whim of a madman, 
why then not to him who is temporarily mad ? Such a 
procedure may convince him when he reflects upon 
what has been said. At any rate,, by yielding the point 
you show to advantage in the opinion of every sensible 
person in the company. 

Never hold an opinion obstinately in the face of rea- 
son and sense. Some people assert dogmatically, 
and will listen to nothing on the opposite side. Gen- 
erally those who assert dogmatically believe blindly, 
and are looked upon as bigoted fools. You may have 
decided opinions, and yet wear them easily and grace- 
fully. Obstinacy is sometimes looked upon as dignity, 
but it is a great mistake. It is more dignified to keep 
your opinions in the background than to push them 
arrogantly forward. 

Never talk about things of which you are ignorant, 
nor of which you know very little, else you are sure to 
make a fool of yourself. Never venture out of your 
depth, and you are not likely to get drowned. If some 
one knocks you out of your soundings don't be ashamed 
to say that you can't swim. 

The art of listening is as important as the art of con- 
versing. A good listener is always sure to please. 



SPEAK GRAMMATICALLY. 29 

The one who is talking to him gifts him with all the 
qualities necessary to appreciate his own discourse, 
and the listener venturing nothing cannot of course 
possibly lose anything. Not that we would recommend 
this quiet swallowing of others' talk. Each man is 
boundjn courtesy to furnish his quota, and the most 
polite way is to give as much as you receive. It is won. 
derful how much you can contribute to a conversation 
the subject matter of which is comparatively strange to 
you. Different kinds of knowledge have all a relation- 
ship which frequently brings them into contact, and in 
virtue of this your turn is pretty sure to come, how re- 
mote soever the subject be from your accustomed 
sphere of studies. Every man should make himself as 
many-sided as possible, and in that case no kind of 
conversation should come amiss. In contributing be- 
sides to a conversation, in the absence of facts you may 
furnish inquiries regarding facts of which you may hap- 
pen to be ignorant. No man is bound to know every- 
thing except a schoolmaster, as Charles Lamb face- 
tiously remarks. 

SPEAK GRAMMATICALLY. 

All who move in polite society are understood to be 
grammatically conversant with their mother tongue. 
Indeed, the more thoroughly acquainted you are with 
the language you are conversing in, the more likely you 
are to shine in it. It may not be so much adapted for 
conversation as the French, but it has more power, for 
it is pre-eminently the language of thought. It is earn- 
est beyond any language living, but there is a wide dif- 



30 SPEAK GRAMMATICALLY. 

f ^rence between a superficial knowledge of it, and that 
thorough acquaintance with it that finds its words 
winged with the gentleness of the dove or the vigor of 
the eagle. At the same time that you take care to 
speak correctly, be not forward to correct the language 
of others, should they happen to make mistakes. Such 
a course would be the height of ill-breeding. Take not 
the slightest obvious notice of them, nor is there any 
need for your doing so — they have already been noted 
quietly by every well-educated person who may have 
heard them. Your noticing them publicly would be 
set down against you as an act of malicious pedantry. 
Let others alone and be content to watch yourself. 

Avoid pedantic and obsolete words and phrases in 
your conversation, unless you wish to pass for a solemn 
fool. Affectation of any kind is simply ridiculous. 
Use the words and phrases that are correct in good so- 
ciety. Your own good sense will generally guide you 
in determining what should be adopted and what 
should be avoided. Phraseology peculiar to the sa- 
loons, clubs, theatres, stables, etc., is not allowable on 
any account, as it is certain to stamp any person who 
uses it as a "low fellow." Equally reprehensible as 
being out of place, is the phraseology peculiar to the 
house of prayer. That is too sacred a subject to be 
drawled over with commonplace topics, and the manner 
so venerably appropriate to the hour of prayer sounds 
very much like cant in the hour of light conversation. 

The surest way to please is to speak simply and with 
no appearance of affectation. Pretentiousness is sure 
to be put down, for it wounds the amour propre of the 
listeners, and bores them with want of useful purpose. 



SPEAK GRAMMATICALLY. %\ 

Depend upon it, if once you begin to admire yourself 
for what you are saying, the admiration of others is 
sure to be in the inverse ratio to your own. To exhibit 
yourself in conversation is just about as bad as to 
talk about yourself ; both are insufferable, and should 
never be attempted by him who has the least desire to 
shine. 

Be sure that you consider well what you are going 
to say before you actually say it ; moreover, consider 
well to whom you are going to say it. Never ask infor- 
mation concerning a third party from one whom you 
know nothing about, and take care to say nothing good 
or ill to him relative to the third party. You would be 
making a confidant thereby of one who is an utter 
stranger to you. You are apt to forget this in the mo- 
ment of good companionship. Never speak evil or good 
of a person who is not present, if you wish to please 
everybody. If you speak evil of him, he may have 
friends there unknown to you who will make your words 
recoil on yourself. If you speak good of him, then his 
enemies may become yours. It is the best and safest 
way not to talk of him at all. But if you must speak of 
him, speak good rather than evil, for you will thereby be 
likely to make fewer enemies. A better reason is that 
it is more Christian-like, and therefore more in accord- 
ance with true politeness. 

" Not to offend," it has been truly said, " is the first 
step towards pleasing." This remark is well worth the 
consideration of all who try to shine by brilliancy of wit. 
The shaft of ridicule that wounds to pain rebounds on 
him who sped it, and wounds himself more seriously 
than the victim. This first step is the only introduction 



32 MEMORY, 

to those that follow. To wound the feelings of others 
is un-Christian and therefore unpolite. 



EGOTISM. 

Of course, unless you happen to be in love, you are 
the most important being in the world to yourself. You 
think, feel, and act from self. The Golden Rule of 
etiquette is simply that you should do unto others as 
you would that others should do unto you. Without a 
due sense of the Ego you would be a nonentity. " There 
is no man however small but makes a figure in his own 
eyes." When the due sense of it beams out handsomely, 
we call it self-respect ; when it darts out offensively, 
egotism. 

Modesty is but the proper thing if you find yourself 
inferior, and the most becoming if superior. It is a 
good background for talents to shine from. It will 
never degrade you lower, but may often raise you 
higher than you deserve ; for in polite society the bal- 
ance is always in favor of what is proper and correct. A 
favorite mode of egotism is what is commonly called 
"fishing" for praise out of the mouths of others, either 
by praising them in the first instance, by way of giving 
the cue, for the very qualities we are vain enough to think 
ourselves possessed of, or by under-rating our ability, 
when we are well known to possess it in a high degree. 



A good memory is a great help to ready conversation. 
It is a storehouse from which you may draw inexhaus- 



THE SPLENDID SPEAKER. 33 

tible material. Of course, you can draw out only what 
you have stored up in it Be careful, then, to put into 
it what you need not be ashamed to bring out of it. To 
shine in society you need not necessarily be brilliant in 
intellect or in imagination — to be well informed and in- 
telligent is all that is required. The well-informed man 
has a great advantage in conversation. It is not a time 
nor a place for reference, and he who can ofT-hand fix 
a date or supply a fact ? shines to advantage in the con- 
versation. 



In the excitement and play of conversation always 
bear a strict adherence to truth. Honesty of fact 
should never be departed from, else it will vitiate the 
strength and influence of what a man says. He is sure 
to be found out sooner or later, for men are pretty good 
critics of the probable and the improbable. Never at- 
tempt to angle for surprise with relating prodigious in- 
cidents. Such are only fit for children and silly old 
men. 

" A great retailer of this curious ware 
Having unloaded and made many stare, 
* Can this be true ? ' an arch observer cries ; 
' Yes,.' rather moved, * I saw it with these eyes. 5 
' Sir, I believe it, on that ground alone, 
I could not, had I seen it with my own.' " 

THE SPLENDID SPEAKER. 

There he is, faultlessly dressed! Instinctively he 
has taken his seat in the most conspicuous part of the 
3 



34 THE SPLENDID SPEAKER. 

room, every corner of which he commands with his 
omni-radiating eye. With ears erect, he awaits the de- 
cisive moment to lay hold of the conversation with his 
everlasting tongue. He is lying in wait, and now he 
springs from his ambush, and fastens on his helpless 
victims. You have said something to an intelligent 
person next you, with whom you anticipate an agreeable 
chat. No such happiness for you, with such an animal 
prowling near. Clearing his throat (which sounds like 
an ominous growl before the decisive leap) and extend- 
ing his hand to your neighbor to indicate that he need 
not answer, he comes down upon you with infinite 
majesty, and with an air that stills every voiceful 
breath in the room. (You never hear the birds sing 
when a kite is upon them.) Magniloquently he replies 
to your simple remarks, nor need you answer him back. 
He means to talk for you and the company the rest of 
the evening. Nor is his voice shaped for you alone. 
It is conscious of being addressed to every pair of ears 
in the room. At length one of the victims rebels. 
The splendid speaker is contradicted. With terrible 
concentration of power he turns round upon the of- 
fending culprit, and annihilating him with his eyes, pro- 
ceeds to re-annihilate him with his tongue. But to his 
astonishment the rebellion is general. A thousand 
satiric darts are hurled at his head. He is silenced. 
With inexpressible hauteur he turns from them all and 
wraps himself in the imperturbable impenetrability of 
his self-conscious dignity. He is fairly " shut up," 
and everybody is thankful. 



SELF-RESPECT. 35 

SELF-RESPECT. 

This is a feeling that has nothing in common with 
egotism, though it has reference to self. The man who 
does not respect himself will never be respected by oth- 
ers. There is a dignity, in the assuming of which there 
is no arrogance but the greatest propriety. This 
dignity is quite compatible with modesty, humility, and 
all the unpretending virtues. It is a sad sight to see 
a man undervaluing himself and the purpose for which 
he was destined, by not employing, or by abusing the 
powers he possesses. One man fritters himself away 
in silly or ignoble pursuits ; another helps to swell the 
current of crime by prostituting, it may be, splendid 
talents in the service of vice. Just think what a man 
is. Take Shakespeare's fine description — " What a 
piece of work is man! how noble in reason! how in- 
finite in faculties ! in form and moving how express 
and admirable ! in action how like an angel ! in ap- 
prehension how like a god ! " It is quite right and 
proper to have an adequate idea of what you really are, 
and to act upon that idea, which you may very well do 
without arrogating more to yourself than is necessary. 
Self-respect, be it remembered, is acted, not professed 
by word of mouth. Whenever you begin to talk of your 
self-respect you are in imminent danger of loosing it. 
He only can properly respect himself who orders all 
his thoughts and actions in accordance with the princi- 
ples of religion and morality. It is nonsense to speak 
of a silly man or a bad man respecting himself. It is 
necessary to have the elements that cause respect to be 
entertained by others. The consciousness of having 



36 MODESTY. 

them and of ever acting on them induces the feeling in 
our breast. The meanest hind may be actuated by it 
as well as the proudest monarch. It is every man's 
safeguard against degradation. Whenever self-respect 
is gone, all trace of manliness is quickly lost. 



Of all qualities, modesty would seem at first thought 
the least compatible with "shining in society," but it 
is not so. " A just and reasonable modesty," says 
Addison, " sets off every great talent a man may be pos- 
sessed of. It heightens all the virtues which it accom- 
panies ; like the shades in paintings, it raises and rounds 
every figure, and makes the colors more beautiful, 
though not so glaring as they would be without it." 
Indeed, this quality is of so much importance that you 
must " assume a modesty if you have it not." You gain 
infinitely more than you give up, for there is a generous 
feeling in society that tends to accord where no pre- 
tension is made, even to a greater extent than there is 
any real ground for. " Be not too tame either, but let 
your own discretion be your tutor." 

A man generally feels bashful when he feels that he 
is singular. Place him where this feeling has no rea- 
son to exist, and his bashfulness disappears. It is 
much better that any singularity he may possess should 
induce bashfulness rather than vanity, but there is no 
substantial reason for either the one or the other. Re- 
move the singularity, if there be one really and not 
merely in your own imagination, as is often the case, and 
then there can be no occasion for it ; or if the singular- 



BOLDNESS. 37 

ity be such that you cannot remove it, do not seem to be 
conscious of it yourself, and he who dares to notice will 
be censured by every man of sense in the company. 

" I pity bashful men, who feel the pain 
Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain, 
And bear the marks upon a blushing face 
Of endless shame and self-imposed disgrace. 
Our sensibilities are so acute, 
The fear of being silent makes us mute. 
We sometimes think we could a speech produce 
Much to the purpose, if our tongues were loose ; 
But being tried it dies upon the lip, ** 

Faint as a chicken's note that has the pip." 



Without a proper amount of boldness no one can 
hope to shine in society. A weak, flickering light can- 
not shine to any useful purpose. If you have plenty of 
oil within to keep your light burning, hide it not under 
a bushel, but place it boldly where it may give light to 
all who are within its range. 

" But know, that nothing can so foolish be 
As empty boldness ; therefore first essay 
To stuff thy mind with solid bravery; 
Then march on gallant, get substantial worth : 
Boldness gilds finely, and will set it forth." 

Take care, however, that your boldness does not 
over-reach itself and degenerate into impertinence or 
rudeness. You may know when that takes place by 
the impression you have made upon your listeners. If 
you have done wrong, don't hesitate to apologize at 



38 FORWARDNESS. 

once, as an artist who has made a false stroke is not 
ashamed to rub it out. Even in rendering the apology 
you may find occasion to distinguish yourself, for it 
stamps you as a gentleman of the right sort at once. 
"Handsome is that handsome does" is a very well 
known and much appreciated saying in all companies. 

FORWARDNESS. 

Nothing is more unbecoming or more calculated to 
defeat one's attempts to " shine " than forwardness. 
Young persons ought not to assume consequence in any 
kind of society, but especially before men of age, wis- 
dom, and experience. Take the sensible advice of 
Parmenio, the Grecian general, to his son — "My son, 
would you be great, you must be less ; that is, you must 
be less in your own eyes if you would be great in the 
eyes of others." A French writer beautifully illustrates 
the contrast thus : — " The modest deportment of really 
wise men, when contrasted with the assuming air of the 
young and ignorant, may be compared to the different 
appearance of wheat, which while its ear is empty holds 
up its head proudly, but as soon as it is filled with 
grain, bends modestly down and withdraws from ob- 
servation." 

Boasting is a mode of putting one's self forward that 
is very offensive. Don't try it, for people won't believe 
a word of what you say. There's a good story told of a 
young clergyman in America boasting in company that 
he had been educated at two colleges, Harvard and 
Cambridge. "You remind me," said an aged divine 
present, " of an instance I knew of a calf that sucked 



CIVILITY. 39 

two cows." " What was the consequence ? " said a 
third person. "Why, sir," replied the old gentleman 
very gravely, " the consequence was that he was a very 
great calf" Served him right. 

DIFFIDENCE. 

Though forwardness is to be avoided if you desire to 
please, you must not fall into the other extreme of diffi- 
dence. As it is usually men of little knowledge and of 
mediocre talent that push themselves forward where 
they ought not to be, so generally we find it to be men 
of uncommon worth, fine genius, and excellent ability 
that labor under the terrors of diffidence. Of the two, 
diffidence is certainly the less objectionable, but if you 
desire to make a figure at all this will defeat your object, 
though you should be otherwise most distinguished. 
The fact is, society is a terror to a diffident man, and 
he instinctively avoids it. Diffidence may be overcome, 
however, by the force of moral courage, and the accus- 
toming one's self, so as to become familiar with the so- 
cial duties. Habit in this becomes second nature. 



Civility, it has been said, costs nothing, and yet it is of 
great value. We cannot dispense with the law to honor 
all men. If a civil word or two will make a man happy, 
why should we withhold them when they cost us noth- 
ing. " It is like lighting another man's candle by one's 
own, which loses none of its light by what the other 
gains." A kind word or a kind action will often call 



40 ATTENTION. 

forth more gratitude in the heart of the recipient than 
material benefits. It is quite possible for a man to be 
compelled to receive a benefit, and yet not thank the 
giver through the incivility of the conferment. 

ATTENTION. 

A good listener is always a favorite in conversation. 
The art of listening well is sometimes preferable to the 
art of speaking well. Want of attention to a person who 
is speaking to you is a gross contravention of the law of 
politeness. It is a crime not easily pardoned by the vic- 
tim, who feels it perhaps more keenly than* an open in- 
sult. We know that towards " bores " it is almost im- 
possible not to conduct one's self even with some 
marked show of inattention, but the well-bred man will 
rather seek the means of politely ridding himself of the 
" bore," and so have " one enemy the less," which is 
the next best to having " one friend the more." In lis- 
tening to the conversation of another, it is not only nec- 
essary that you should attend, but that you should show 
your interest in the matter by frequent responses or 
ejaculations, or remarks. Passive silence merely, 
even with your eyes indicating attention, is not enough. 
You must show that you have been attending with your 
ears also, and that is best done by responding with your 
tongue. 

One very common reason why we meet with so few 
people who are really agreeable in conversation is that 
there is scarcely anybody who does not think more of 
what he has to say, than of listening to and answering 
what is said to him. F,ven those who are reputed to 



" LARGE TALK AND SMALL TALK." 41 

\ have the greatest politeness sometimes think they do 
enough if they only seem to be attentive. At the same 
time their eyes and gestures betray a distraction as to 
what is addressed to them, and an impatience to return 
to what they themselves were saying. They forget that 
to be studious of pleasing themselves is but a poor way 
to please others, and that to listen patiently and answer 
complaisantly is essentially characteristic of good con- 
versation. Without careful attention nothing can be 
done, and your attention should not only be careful and 
considerate, but quick and universal too, so far as your 
range is occupied, for where all are considered on an 
equality no one cares to be overlooked. Readiness of 
attention is also a valuable auxiliary to maintain that 
easy flow of conversation which is so liable to be inter- 
rupted by a change of speakers or of subjects. The 
fact is, that to be perfect in this, you should have within 
the range of your observation all that is transpiring 
around you — all the people, their motions, their looks, 
their words, and yet without staring at them or seeming 
to be an observer. Be ever ready for any little inter- 
change of civility that may occur. Remember how 
pleased you were with the slightest mark of attention 
paid to you. The same result will follow when you 
show them to others. 



"large talk and small talk." 

Some young men have a habit of talking largely about 
things and about themselves. They desire not only to 
shine but to astonish. These belong to the class 
dubbed by society " Magnificent liars. " Let them give 



42 " LARGE TALK AND SMALL TALK. 

over the habit, for they are never believed, even when 
they may be telling, the plain, unadorned matter of fact. 
So far from shining, they are pretty sure some time or 
other, to have the " shine " completely extinguished by 
some intended victim who cannot stomach the silly im- 
position longer. 

Small talk is as great a fault as large talk, whether it 
be shallow or flippant. Part of the conversation must 
necessarily be made up of commonplace topics, but these 
can be dealt within a rational and gentlemanly manner* 
without condescending to gossip and " old wives' gab- 
ble." . 

Talk much and err much, says the Spaniard, and the 
Spaniard is not far wrong. If we lay ourselves out to 
talk much, then we venture upon what we do not know 
very well rather than cease talking, and so make blun- 
ders. To bridle the tongue is not so very easy when it 
has a mind to set off at full gallop. " Reason lies be- 
tween the spur and the bridle." Use a wise modera- 
tion, being neither too sedate nor too talkative. The 
former will proclaim your ignorance to the company, the 
latter your presumption and conceit. Talkativeness, 
though in the main to be censured, does not always pro- 
ceed from want of judgment. In Scotland people are 
not talkative enough — they are too reticent, and when 
they do talk, they rather argue than converse. In 
France the conversation seems to us an eternal jabber, 
so incessantly do they talk. In England they have a 
free open-hearted talkativeness that is light, merry, and 
cheerful, without being at all flippant, and this seems to 
be the vein most natural for the purposes of conversa- 
tion. 



ANECDOTE. 43 



Anecdotes, when well told and fittingly introduced, 
form good " shining " material. The chief requisite is 
that they be- new, and calculated to interest and amuse 
the company. They ought to be introduced seldom, 
and only when they are apt. Omit unnecessary detail 
and never digress. Impregnate them with as much live- 
liness and humor as you can. The more brilliantly they 
sparkle the more they are appreciated. But beware of 
dry narrative. 

"A story in which native humor reigns 
Is often useful, always entertains ; 
But sedentary weavers of long tales 
Give me the fidgets, and my patience fails. 
'Tis the most asinine employ on earth 
To hear them tell of parentage and birth, 
And echo conversations dull and dry, 
Embellished with — He said, and so said I." 

Anecdotes which may do very well in one company 
may fall flat and tedious in another. The character, 
the habits, the cant of one company may give merit to 
a story which may be entirely wanting in another. 
People are often disappointed by not attending to this. 
They are mortified beyond measure to find what set 
one company in a roar, and procured for them, may- 
hap, immediate conversational status, falls flat and 
dull' in another which they hoped to have taken by 
storm, and for that purpose committed themselves to 
the most unmistakable emphasis which characterizes a 
man when he knows he is saying a good thing. Such 
a check is enough to freeze him up for the rest of the 



44 PUNNING. 

evening, so let him beware of being out of season with 
unseasonable wit. 

Long stories are quite out of place in general con- 
versation. There are times when a person is called on 
to relate a story, but these are special. When such an 
occasion does occur, it is best to meet the emergency 
boldly, and to tell the story as directly, yet as circum- 
stantially, as your information will allow. A good 
story-teller has then a first-rate opportunity to shine, 
and it is worth while to have paid some attention to 
the art beforehand, so as the more thoroughly to please 
the company and gain credit for yourself. Whatever 
is worth doing at all is worth doing well. That must 
be our excuse for advising preparation. 

Short incidents and bon-mots are quite allowable. 
Indeed they are highly ornamental and even useful in 
varying the style of conversation. 

" A tale should be judicious, clear, succinct, 
The language plain, and incidents well linked; 
Tell not as new what everybody knows, 
And new or old, still hasten to a close; 
There cent'ring in a focus, round and neat, 
Let all your rays of information meet." 



Punning used to be more respectable than it is now. 
It can, however, boast the example of Shakespeare, 
and some of the finest wits that have graced society. 
Punch, too, has so commended the practice to our 
notice, that the prejudice against it is wearing away. 
Vile puns by conceited punsters have brought the thing 



LAUGHTER. 45 

into disrepute. A good pun, rising naturally out of 
the current of the conversation, is not to be despised, 
but there must be nothing like an attempt to be funny 
by playing upon the words when everybody else is seri- 
ously engaged in attending to the thought. Some posi- 
tively lay a trap for it, and when the opportunity is 
made to present itself, pounce upon it immediately ; 
garnish their contemptible game with a few grins, and 
toss it with a conceited leer among their unfortunate 
victims. The trap is set in many ways. The trap 
enigmatical, thus : — Why is a person beating his wife 
like a ladies' tailor ? Because he is a man milling her 
(man milliner). The trap hypothetical, thus : — If a 
chairman were /<?/itical, he would certainly lend a help- 
ing hand to the Poles. The trap anecdotical, thus : — 
When the tyrant of Algiers was conveyed to Naples, 
the Polacca, on board which vessel he was, outsailed 
all the vessels which accompanied her. " Indeed." 
But you know there was no wonder in that, for she was 
sure to carry the Dey. 



LAUGHTER. 

Goldsmith well describes the " loud laugh " as speak- 
ing " the vacant mind." He was not far wrong. Loud 
laughter generally indicates a lamentable absence of 
due mental occupation. Whatever the truth of the 
matter may be, people generally suspect vacuity of 
thought "where laughter hath such room to ring," on 
the principle that " an empty barrel gives forth the 
greatest sound." The " Preacher " tells us that 



46 LAUGHTER. 

" The noisy laughter of the fool 
Is like the crackling sound 
Of blazing thorns, which quickly fall 
In ashes to the ground." 

So you see there is not much " shining " stuff in this to 
suit your purpose. There is, at any rate, in the best 
view of it, much suspicion attached, and like Caesar's 
wife, your reputation to shine must be above suspicion. 
You may laugh heartily yet not loudly nor noisily. " I 
have always preferred cheerfulness to mirth'" says the 
essayist. It was the instinct of good manners that 
prompted the thought. Cheerfulness produces the 
smile, and the gentle laugh, and fills the mind with the 
steady and constant serenity of the summer day. 
Cheerfulness is the best mood 'for conversation. It 
is the most easily sustained and the most comforta- 
bly enjoyed. There are exceptions of course. Some 
by their flashes of wit can " set the table in a roar.'' 
Then the " roar " is proper and becoming, and the 
restraint of it would be pure affectation. 

Unless a person has fairly brought down ridicule 
upon his own head, it is highly unbecoming to laugh 
at him. It destroys that sympathy without which no 
company can feel comfortable. Do not be too suspi- 
cious either that people are laughing at you. If you 
behave properly and people do laugh at you, it is to 
their own disadvantage, not yours. 

A laugh may often be used judiciously in conversa- 
tion to blunt the edge of some sarcasm that may have 
been ill-naturedly uttered against you. It shows that 
the barbed dart has not pierced your good nature, and 
if you follow it up with a good-natured joke your vie- 



TABLE TALK. 47 

tory is complete, and you " shine " forth like the sun 
dispersing a wintry cloud. 

The most detestable kind of laughter we know is the 
giggle. Detestable enough in woman, it is far more so 
in man. It is the sure indication of not only vacuity 
of thought, but of lightness of intellect and instability 
of affection. t It is equally characteristic of the heartless 
coquette and the foppish man-flirt. George Herbert 
has some very sensible lines on laughter; they are 
these : — ' 

" Pick out of mirth, like stones out of thy ground, 
Profaneness, filthiness, abusiveness, 
These are the scum, with which coarse wits abound; 
The fine may spare these well, yet not go less. 
All things are big with jest : nothing that's plain 
But may be witty, if thou hast the vein. 

" Wit's an unruly engine, wildly striking 

Sometimes a friend, sometimes the engineer : 
Hast thou the knack ? pamper it not with liking ; 
But if thou want it, buy it not too dear. 
Many affecting wit beyond their power 
Have got to be a dear fool for an hour. 

" A sad wise valor is the brave complexion. 

That leads the van, and swallows up the cities. 
The giggle r is a milkmaid, whom infection, 
Or a fired beacon frighteth from his ditties. 

Then he's the sport, the mirth then in him rests, 
And the sad man is cock of all his jests." 



TABLE TALK. 

Table talk is a sphere in which the most distinguished 
mav have endeavored to shine. Volumes of their table 



48 TABLE TALK. 

talk have been published, and this aphoristic literature 
is held in high esteem. While the dinner is being 
served, the prelude to the conversation is being carried 
on. Now is the favorable time for gaining a knowledge 
of the different individuals with whom you are to pass 
the next few hours. At this period the tone of conver- 
sation is not very high pitched. The topics are gener- 
ally of a commonplace kind, for as yet you have no 
common ground on which to meet your associates. 
The weather — what's new — the interchange of civilities 
— public amusements form a starting point. The asso- 
ciation of ideas and their interchange keep up the flow. 
Gradually mind discloses itself to mind, and the mere 
talk passes into genuine conversation. The common- 
place topics enable us to form an estimate of the com- 
pany — to distinguish the talkative from the taciturn, 
the quick from the dull, the cheerful, jovial man from 
the slow and the sour. 

If you desire to shine to advantage at dinner, order 
and husband your topics like the courses that come 
before you, for a great deal depends on the inclination 
of your associates to listen to you. Let them be light 
at first and more substantial as you proceed, and if you 
have wit, spend it judiciously in seasoning all. 

During the soup course, conversation is almost en- 
tirely dispensed with. The minds of all are generally 
engrossed with one topic, and to talk upon that topic is 
forbidden by the laws of dinner etiquette. The animal 
appetite must be silenced before the rational faculty is 
allowed to play. 

After the first course, you may begin to feel the 
pulse of your neighbor, or vis-a-vis, by some little ap- 



AFTER DINNER. 49 

preach to gayety, but beware of attracting general atten- 
tion. At the second course the appetite begins to 
abate, and a restraining pause ensues. Now they like 
nothing better than to talk and listen for a short time. 
This is the time for the interchange of pleasantries, 
and short lively anecdotes, But don't bother the mind 
with any serious work to do, for it is still under the 
sway of the stomach, and will not brook anything that 
requires sustained attention. People resent anything 
that looks like an attempt to spoil their dinner or the 
digestion of it. 

4-s the courses proceed you may open out more 
freely, for all are becoming emancipated from the 
dominion of physical appetite, and the mental is now 
decidedly in the ascendant. Beware still, however, of 
boring your neighbors with too heavy talk, 01 too con- 
tinuous, for the reign of free uninterrupted conversation 
has not yet begun. 

But when the desert is on the table — when the ripe 
delicate fruit is set, and the sparkling wines stream from 
the crystal, then let flow your raciest thoughts — your 
wit — your humor — your fancies — whatever you may 
excel in. No restraint is needed now but that of good 
sense, sound judgment and manly courtesy, 

AFTER DINNER. 

After dinner the subject of conversation should be of 
a light and entertaining character, such as the general 
news or current literature of the day. Keep pace with 
the tenor of the conversation around you. Carefully 
guard against the wily wine stealing away your brains, 
4 



SO ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

Then the tongue loosens itself and runs off, or floun- 
ders in the mud of a thick utterance or a plunging 
stuttering. Shun all approaches to argument or discus- 
sion ; you are not met to draw conclusions, but to 
accept them from each other in a friendly way. For 
this reason politics is generally forbidden as an article 
of conversation, for in a mixed company there is sure to 
be a difference of opinion, and men think too keenly 
upon that to talk amicably about it. Besides, it is 
extremely suggestive of the hot electioneering party 
spirit we witness so often when summoned to record 
our thought by actual vote. Should any one be so rude 
as to turn a joke upon you, turn the laugh as good natur- 
edly as you can upon himself, but avoid collision with 
any one as much as possible. Toasts are going out of 
fashion except at public entertainments. A well-told 
ancedote or a clever conundrum is about the only kind 
of public solo you can venture on. 

When you have joined the ladies, alter your style 
entirely. Should the evening be fine and you take a 
turn in the garden, you find yourself paired off with a 
companion. Should that companion be of the fair sex, 
entertain her with the language of Flora, or the poetry 
of flowers, or some such sentimental subject. Should 
you be linked to a gentleman, you may narrow the 
choice of your subject, and select that which you know 
he is the most intimately conversant with. 

ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

There is not a more legitimate method of " shining 
in society " than through what are termed " accomplish- 



ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 51 

merits." There are the active fields of science, litera- 
ture, and art to choose accomplishments from, according 
to the taste of the chooser. 

Science, or the knowledge of things, is as wide as 
creation, and as interesting to intelligent minds. Its 
wonders are inexhaustible ; and he who is conversant 
with them can always have it in his power to promote 
conversation of the loftiest kind. He is the privileged 
exhibitor of the beautiful spectacle of the universe, and 
his intelligent audience gladly pay him for his enter- 
tainment, by feelings of gratitude, admiration, and re- 
spect. 

Literature is one in which elegant minds delight to 
shine. In this, human nature refines itself by finding 
itself mirrored back in ideal forms. The idealization 
of our being need not spend itself in mere ideas. The 
thoughts in our minds, the words upon our lips may be 
purified and refined by this idealizing process couched 
in the study of literature, and yet be as true, as good, 
and as strong as before. The action too is not im- 
paired — it is that of a higher being. 

Both science and literature have great thoughts for 
expression, and he who can express them greatly will 
always be deemed a great man. Nor can we cultivate 
them without getting into the society of great men, and 
unconsciously borrowing something of their greatness. 
It is said, with a deal of truth, that a man is known by 
the society he keeps. If, then, you show that you 
have been in the company of such as Homer, Shake- 
speare, Galileo, or Buffon, you will be known only for 
what is noble and good. On a woodland excursion he 
who can find " sermons in stones, books in the running 



52 ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

brooks, and good in everything " will shine to greater 
advantage than he who babbles talk foreign to the 
lovely world that surrounds him, and that is constantly 
projecting the loveliest pictures on the tablet of his 
mind. 

A knowledge of languages, ancient or modern, or 
both, with their literatures, has great weight in society, 
and makes a man shine more powerfully than the little 
" art," ' which shows off accomplishments that are 
merely surface deep. Nothing is considered more the 
mark of a gentleman than an acquaintance with the 
classics, ancient or modern. True, it sometimes de- 
generates into pedantry ; but that is the abuse, not the 
use of it. Thought is of course a higher sphere of con- 
versation than mere language, but the Attic salt is con- 
sidered best as a seasoner by average minds, and you 
cannot always have the pleasing of your own judgment 
as to what is best. 

Art is another very extensive field for the display of 
your ability to shine. If you have the power itself it 
gives you more authority to speak, for you are thereby 
enabled to form juster opinions that can stand criti- 
cism. 

But whatever range of studies you enter upon for the 
proper fitting out of your mind, avoid furnishing it with 
such articles as, however useful in their own proper 
sphere, are quite out of place as items of furniture in 
your mind. By way of warning, let us show you a 
pedant with all his quaint nick-nackery of mental 
furniture. 



PEDANTRY. 53 

PEDANTRY. 

A pedant is generally a puzzle of a man — his knowl- 
edge and his ignorance are both in extremes. He 
knows a huge mass of what nobody else cares to 
know, and does not care to know a huge mass of what 
everybody else would feel ashamed to be ignorant. He 
knows a good deal more about the Greeks and Romans 
than about the people he is living among. He may not 
be able to find his way to the next street, yet he is in- 
timately acquainted with the buildings of ancient Rome, 
and the several quarters of ancient Jerusalem. He knows 
exactly the dimensions of the Forum Boarium, but would 
feel insulted by a question about those of our own bazaar. 
He would express extreme indignation and contempt if 
asked to handle a cricket bat or an oar; but he will dis~ 
course learnedly on the Trochus or the Trireme. He 
is not able to distinguish a quadrille from a polka, but 
he can detail all the evolutions of the Pyrrhic dance. 
He has written a dissertation on the Lydian and Dorian 
Moods, but he can't see any great difference between a 
Highland pibroch and an oratorio of Handel or Bee- 
thoven. He is equally ignorant of sculpture and paint- 
ing. He talks indeed about Phidias and Praxiteles, be- 
cause he finds them mentioned in his classic authors ; 
but he puts no value on Thorwaldsen or Turner ; and 
even when you place him before the Elgin Marbles, he 
feels interested in them only in so far as they settle the 
meaning of some disputed passage. His physician has 
impressed on him the necessity of exercise, but 'tis al- 
most a matter of course he doesn't know how to take a 
walk. He sees no beauty in the face of Nature — or if 



54 PEDANTRY. 

there comes across his mind a recollection of a time 
when he did delight to look upon it, this natural feeling 
soon evaporates in a musty quotation. Parallel pas- 
sages in Greek and Latin he can cite without limit — 
and there are few words whose quantity he has not 
some line of poetry ready to determine. But worth of 
sentiment and felicity of expression are lost on him. 
Though he prates about the sublimity of ^Eschylus, and 
the philosophy of Euripides, he is not terrified by 
Macbeth, does not speculate with Hamlet. His pride 
comes to back his ignorance, and he regards as vulgar 
and mechanical all that he does not know, and every- 
thing that he cannot do. He looks with affected con- 
tempt on fishing and shooting, fencing and dancing, — 
he doesn't swim — he doesn't play cards, chess, or bag- 
atelle — he went once to the theatre to see Antigone — 
but he has an infinite horror of all kinds of amusements. 
We have known only one of this class who had in 
his composition a fine vein of natural humor ; but he is 
sometimes not without pretension to wit. He even 
makes puns ; but the analogies he discovers have al- 
ways one term at least in the dread unknown of school 
cram. He suggests the propriety of naming streets 
after the five Predicables — assigning one to people of 
substance — another to people of quality, etc., and argues 
against the illogical procedure of landlords who insist 
upon their tenants coming to a conclusion on the sub- 
ject of rent before they have granted them the premises. 
Should you happen to hear him discoursing upon some 
favorite theme, you might think his intellectual activity 
unbounded ; yet in this point he is the most slothful 
man alive ; he thinks none, he merely remembers. 



PEDANTRY. 5 5 

Reading is to him just an intemperate habit, like dram- 
drinking; he has accustomed himself to a stimulus 
which his enfeebled mind can no longer want. He has 
become so habituated to the authority of books, that he 
has forgot that judgment has any authority. Although 
he has a prodigious acquaintance with other people's 
ideas — of all people in the world he has fewest of his 
own. He looks at everything as reflected in other men's 
minds — the broad daylight streaming from the thing 
itself blinds him. Books are called spectacles through 
which we look at the world — to him books are blue 
spectacles that keep the strong light from his weak 
eyes, and tint everything with their own hue. He 
thinks with his books, as a cripple walks with his 
crutches, and he is always behind when the angel comes 
down to stir the waters. Thoughts that live and work 
in the heart of ages acquire value to him only when he 
gets them served up in printer's ink and parchment, 
as dilettanti care little for Pharaoh's daughter, who 
walked with her maidens on the banks of the Nile, but 
put great value on her when salted and swaddled and 
boxed in a mummy case. He is a very child in the 
ways of the world. He doesn't take any interest in his 
next-door neighbor, though he may have known him 
since he was a child — he takes far more interest in the 
genealogies of the Cassars or the Scipios. He can't 
appreciate honest manliness in any but Aristides or 
Cato. He can pronounce an oration on the character 
of Pericles, or Pompey, but cannot tell whether or not 
his most intimate friend is a knave or a numskull. He 
never reads the debates in Parliament — but sometimes 
looks at the column of varieties. He reads some novels 



56 PEDANTRY. 

— Valerius and the Fawn of Sertorius — and expresses 
his regret that Shakespeare's Roman plays have so lit- 
tle of the Roman spirit. When he goes to church he 
uses the Greek Testament and the Septuagint — and not 
unfrequently laments that our vernacular has failed in 
expressing the force of this tense or that particle. Dur- 
ing sermon he employs himself in reconciling- Griesbach 
and Tischendorf, or keeps a sharp lookout for slips in 
the minister's grammar, or fallacies in his argument. 

A one-sided being stamped with any portion of the 
preceding feature is certain of proving a bore in any- 
intelligent society. He can be endured only by being- 
made a butt for pleasantries and ridicule. Indeed, we 
ourselves in describing our ideal of a learned pedant 
have not been able to restrain our pen from carica- 
ture. 

But pedantry is not confined to learning alone. 
There is pedantry wherever there is persevering " mono- 
talk " on any subject, simply because we know it partic- 
ularly well, to the evident " boring " of the company. 
Such is the case of a merchant talking "shop," or a 
clergyman talking "church." Remember, however, 
that it is not the talking well and thoroughly on a sub- 
ject that constitutes pedantry. It is the keeping of it 
up when the others desire to let it drop, or the intro- 
duction of an outre subject in which the others have no 
common interest. 

Some have a habit of preaching their opinions in con- 
versation. This is very disagreeable and unwise. 
Your opinions, if you wish them expressed most effec- 
tively, will have a much better chance of being enter- 
tained if they are suggested modestly. Some learned 



PEDANTRY. 57 

men, proud of their knowledge, speak only to decide, 
and to let you know pretty plainly by their imperious 
manner that their decision is not to be appealed from. 
Even though they should speak nothing but the truth, 
men are at once inclined to dissent, and even to serve 
them with a return in kind. The more you know, the 
more modest should you be, if your knowledge has 
done you the good it was intended. Remember Sir 
Isaac Newton, who compared himself with all his learn- 
ing to a child gathering pebbles on the sea-shore ; so 
little did he think of what even he had gathered on 
this shore of time. Even where you are sure, do not 
press it dogmatically ; represent but do not pronounce ; 
and if you would convince others, be open to convic- 
tion yourself. 

Our modern education is becoming less and less 
pedantic. The ancients are not worshipped with the 
reverence they once were. " We are the ancients," is 
the common-sense cry now, for we are older in knowl- 
edge and art than they. Formerly, when Latin and 
Greek were the only humanities studied at school and 
college, the ancients were talked of as something more 
than men, and the moderns as something less. Speak 
of the moderns without contempt, and of the ancients 
without idolatry. Judge them all by their merits, 
whether old or new, and never stoop to the authority 
of any writer if your considerate judgment tells you 
that he is not to be trusted. 

Some great scholars almost absurdly draw empiric 
maxims, both for public and private life, from what 
they call parallel cases in the ancient authors, without 
considering that in the first place, there never were two 



58 SOCIAL CHARACTERS. 

cases exactly parallel ; and in the next place, there 
never was a case known — much less stated — with all 
its circumstances and conditions, by any historian. 
Wise saws and instances, ancient or modern, have un- 
doubtedly great authority, but should be regarded 
rather as enforcements than proofs. Reason upon the 
case itself, taking into due consideration the circum- 
stances and conditions. Look upon analogies as helps 
only, not as guides. 

SOCIAL CHARACTERS. 

The characters that infest the. social circle are as 
varied as the faces that denote them. There is the 
silent man, who, where all are talking, seldom ventures 
to open his mouth. The reason is various. It may be 
through diffidence of his ability or dread of impropriety, 
or because no one has taken the trouble to tap him and 
make him run. Then there is the noisy man who 
seems to love so much the sound of his own voice that 
it predominates everywhere. He boils and fizzes 
eternally, and may boil over, but never evaporates. 
His steam is inexhaustible. He talks for talking's sake # 
To silence him you agree with him, but he is not 
silenced. Sooner than that he will turn round and eat 
up his own arguments to prolong the discussion. He 
is always in the right. You have no refuge but 

" To twirl your thumbs, fall back into your chair, 
Fix on the wainscot a distressful stare, 
And, when you hope his blunders are all out, 
Reply discreetly — to be sure — no doubt ! " 



SOCIAL CHARACTERS. 59 

There is the doubtful man who knows nothing 
positively. You can't catch him tripping in a hurry. 
H,e hedges himself round with humbly hoping, and pos- 
sibly presuming. He remembers if he does not forget, 
and thinks he saw, but would not swear he did. 

"His evidence, if he were called by law 
To swear to some enormity he saw, 
For want of prominence and just relief, 
Would hang an honest man and save a thief." 

There is the positive man, on the other hand, who 
pronounces judgment without the least hesitation. 
Ordinary mortals base their opinions upon proof, but 
he requires none. 

" Without the means of knowing right from wrong, 
He always is decisive, clear and strong." 

He wonders you can't see the thing in the same light 
with him, and sets you down for a very stupid fellow 
in consequence. He 

" Flings at your head conviction in the lump, 
And gains remote conclusions at a jump." 

There are the disputatious men who dispute about 
everything, and quarrel with everybody. They con- 
sider conversation a sparring match, and planting hits 
the great end of it. They become terribly excited 
when opposition warms them into thorough exercise, 
and stop at nothing to make themselves and their argu- 
ments triumphant. The best method of stopping 
their play is to give them nobody to fence with, and if 
they assault any one, let them be proclaimed victorious 
before the fight begins. 



Co SOCIAL CHARACTERS. 

There is the hypochondriac maletudinarian who is 
always talking of his ailings. He always breathes an 
atrabilarious atmosphere of colds and coughs and in- 
digestions, and blue-pill recoveries. He entertains you, 
as if you were his nurse or his doctor, with a long 
catalogue of bilious experiences, until you begin to 
think that they are contagious disorders, and feel all 
wrong as well as he. You find yourself pulling a long 
face, while those around you broaden with healthy 
grins. You feel as in a wet blanket and damp night- 
cap. You are miserable and can't stand it longer. 
You break in pieces the cenotaph of vapors he has 
been erecting around you by a sudden burst of re- 
covered cheerfulness, slap him on the shoulder with a 
" begone, dull care," and warm yourself again with the 
sunny eyes and merry countenances that are beaming 
all round you. You were caught once ; you never 
shall be again. You know the maletudinarians by the 
shadows they cast around them. 

There is the fretful man who seems to find pleasure 
only in being displeased. Nothing is said or done to his 
mind. The room is either too hot or too cold. His 
stomach seems out of order ; his brain is out of order; 
and of course his heart and his tongue follow suit. He is 
restless and impatient, talking at random, and ever by 
fits and starts. He is on good terms with nobody, not 
even with himself. He says a thousand extravagant 
things, and these in an ill-natured tone of voice. He 
cares not who takes offence at his ill-natured remarks, 
and is rather gratified than otherwise if you complain 
or resent. He is unhappy himself, and, so far as he 
can, makes others unhappy also. 



THE LADIES. 6l 

Such characters as the foregoing are a few of many 
hindrances to the natural current of genial conversation 
which 

" Should flow like waters after summer showers," 

filling our minds with freshening streams of thought 
and our hearts with the babble of gladness. 

THE LADIES. 

Young men are proverbially fond of " making a 
figure " when they enter polite society ; especially 
when fair eyes are bent upon them, and their hearts 
are still disengaged, there is a romantic charm that 
fascinates them with an intense desire to please. How 
circumspect they are ! ever dreading to commit some 
incongruous action for which they may be laughed at. 
Gallantry, indeed, is the great play of every social 
gathering. " Place aux dames " supersedes every other 
consideration. 

Few love to hear ill of themselves. Ladies espe- 
cially dislike it. We do not mean to say that you 
must consider them faultless, but the more you respect 
and admire them, the purer and pleasanter will be your 
intercourse with them. It is the custom now-a-days to 
sneer at Platonic attachments, but it is one great feat- 
ure of our Christian religion that such relations may 
and ought to exist. The society of ladies is indispensa- 
ble to the young man who is desirous of polishing his 
manner to any degree of refinement. Woman is insep- 
arable from every advance we make in life. When the 
child is clasped to the mother's bosom, the first impres- 



62 HOW TO DRESS. 

sions of intelligence are conveyed in love from her eyes. 
Soon that tender love stirs up emotions in its little 
heart. Anon her gentle will guides with discretion its, 
thoughtless wishes. The same relation holds good in 
after life. It is matter of notoriety that great men 
generally have had noble mothers. It has been said, 
too, with much truth, that all great men have had much 
of woman's nature in their composition. Woman 
moulds us more than we are willing to allow, and 
history attests the fact that she has seriously affected 
even the fates of empires. 

Young men then need not be ashamed to court the 
society of the ladies as a positive item of their training. 
Some frequent their company to trifle and amuse 
themselves. Such congregating is beneath the dignity 
of being styled society. 



HOW TO DRESS. 

" The beauty of dress," says Dr. Gregory, " consists 
in not being conspicuous." Quiet dressing is ever the 
best. Dressiness is what detraction will lay hold of at 
once, for it proclaims itself and invites censure. The 
art of dressing is just the art of draping the human form 
so as to exhibit it to the best advantage. We do not 
mean the mere draping of a statue, for there is action 
in the human form which the statue wants. The 
beautiful outlines of the human figure form the ground- 
work of the " cut, " as it is expressively termed, of our 
clothes. Those outlines should neither be concealed 
nor distorted. Fashion, it is true, is not always synony- 



DANCING. 63 

mous with good taste in this respect, and modifies 
somewhat the manner in which we ought to dress. 

The body is more dressed than the mind, we fear, in 
average society, and this may be because it is sooner 
dressed. But this should not be, and will not be ere 
long. The atmosphere of society is becoming less 
showy and more " spirituelle." The flow of soul is 
taking the place of mere talk. 



It is not so easy now as of old to dance yourself into 
the good graces of a company. Long ago people did 
actually " trip it on the light fantastic toe," and were 
admired for it, but not so now. All that is required of 
you is to keep time, and keep the figure. If you obey 
the impulse of the music and really dance, you are set 
down as a skip-jack or a dancing-master. No mistake 
but this is eminently absurd, but so it is, and fashion is 
peremptory. If pianists were to play, as dancers dance, 
without any accent or articulation or variety, what a 
sorry thing it would be altogether. Let us hope that 
as fashion has changed it, fashion may change again 
into the good old method of bounding merrily to the 
musical impulse of the sou!. 

There is little opportunity for conversation during 
dancing. It is all suggested by the requirements of 
the dance, and kept subordinate to it, for your atten- 
tion should be given entirely to what you are engaged in 
for the present. There are many little attentions and 
civilities, -however, presenting themselves, in which you 
may shine to advantage if you lay hold of the opportu- 



64 THE ETIQUETTE OF CONVERSATION. 

nity. Presence of mind and a desire to please will 
carry you successfully through them all. 

The only perfume you should allow yourself to be 
redolent of in company, is the freshness of health and 
cleanliness. Fragrant scents are generally suspected 
as employed to kill more questionable ones. Pepper- 
mint on the breath barely disguises the alcoholic pota- 
tion, and eau de Cologne will never atone for a dirty 
shirt collar. Other things being equal, a little perfume 
is rather grateful than otherwise, but beware of smell- 
ing rank, — it is vulgar as well as disagreeable. 

" I cannot talk with civet in the room, 
A fine puss gentleman that's all perfume ; 
His odoriferous attempts to please 
Perhaps might prosper with a swarm of bees," 

or the giddy flies that buzz about society, and are caught 
with every sense but that, which, though called com- 
mon, is the most uncommon of all. 



THE ETIQUETTE OF CONVERSATION. 

It may be useful to sum up a few of the most useful 
rules for conversation, that they may be the more read- 
ily borne in mind. 

In general, people who have not been introduced are 
not understood to be on conversing terms. In travel- 
ling more freedom is allowed, but even then the conver- 
sation is but very general unless special circumstances 
warrant otherwise. 

Who should begin a conversation it is not easy to 
say. Where there is a doubt as to who should begin, 



THE ETIQUETTE OF CONVERSATION. 65 

let it be the person of greatest importance in the com- 
pany. But if it be done modestly, any one may begin. 

But it is not so difficult to begin a conversation as it 
is to carry it on successfully. Wit is by no means a 
sure card. Few can play it well, and still fewer main- 
tain the play. Nor will learning supply you with the 
material of the right sort altogether. That must pass 
through the alembic of your mind, and give forth its 
fine precipitate of thought, and this brings us to the 
stuff of the proper kind for conversational purposes, for 
conversation is but the interchange of thought. Learn- 
ing is dead inert matter that begets nothing, but thought 
is living spirit and begets thought. It is thought that 
makes words winged, and the hours too. Look the 
person in the face with whom you are conversing. 
Never talk past him — it gives you an air of insin- 
cerity. Let your manner be confident without being 
bold, easy without being familiar. 

Talk neither too slowly nor too quickly, but with a 
lively degree of raciness. Animation is indispensable 
to successful conversation. Let the tones of your voice 
be as musical as possible, steering equally clear of 
"clipping " the words of their due amount of sound, or 
of mouthing them with too much. 

In general, society never alludes to private matters. 
Talk with the company on subjects of general interest. 
With learned men you may talk of learned subjects, 
but never inflict your superior knowledge on people of 
more slender pretensions. It would be like a rich man 
displaying his gold against poorer men's copper. 

Never interrupt a speaker in what lie is saying. If 
you step before him so unceremoniously, it is courteous 
5 



66 PRUDENCE IN CONVERSATION. 

of him, indeed, if he does not take the tempting oppor- 
tunity of using his foot to take you out of his way. 

Never crush any subject of conversation and substi- 
tute one of your own in its stead. If you wish it 
changed, wait till it is exhausted, or lead it in the di- 
rection of your own. 

Never converse with a preoccupied mind. Throw 
your whole mind into it, else you are sure to make the 
conversation hang and drag its " weary length along." 

If unable or not disposed to talk on a subject, you 
can listen. 

PRUDENCE IN CONVERSATION. 

There is not a more necessary quality in conversa- 
tion than prudence. Consider well what you are going 
to say before you say it. Consider how it will affect 
yourself, your hearers, or any other person present or 
absent. By cultivating the habit, a flash of your mind 
over it in review will decide the matter for you at once, 
so that it need not check the genial and uninterrupted 
flow of soul. 

The great vice of conversation is detraction. Its 
piquancy is a sad temptation, and all are guilty of it 
more or less. But it puts you in the light of an envi- 
ous person, though there may not be a particle of envy 
present in the matter so far as you are concerned. 
The presence of envy, real or attributed, will not help 
you to shine. Speak of the absent as you would if they 
were present and heard you. Do not say behind a 
man's back what you would not dare to say to his face. 
Besides the possible disgrace of having to " eat your 



PRUDENCE IN CONVERSATION. 6j 

own words," it is most unmanly. You can never be 
wrong in taking a good-natured view of the characters 
of others. It does you no harm ; possibly it may do 
you good. What you say is not so much at the mercy 
of the company to retail. Good-natured remarks, un- 
less maliciously perverted, will stand the saying over 
again without harm ; but ill-natured are sure to become 
harsher in the carrying. Evil speaking is a most un- 
manly, un-Christian habijt, and should be encouraged 
neither in ourselves nor in others. If a person speaks 
evil of others to you, be pretty sure that in another 
company he will speak evil of you. Beware of it not 
only in yourself, but in others also. 

If you are wise you will avoid the giving expression 
to opinions that may be singular to the company you 
find yourself in — above all, opinions in religion. Com. 
pany is not a place for disputation, and every one is 
as fond of his opinions as you are of yours, and is dis- 
posed to uphold them when questioned by the state- 
ment of an opposite. You can only startle and dis- 
please at the best, should no opposition be shown from 
inability or good taste. If an argument be started and 
you loose it, you feel that you have not shone to advan- 
tage ; and if you win it, you have surely lost the kindly 
feeling of those opposed to you. 

Always be modest in the expression of your senti- 
ments. Do not dogmatically assert, even when you 
are certain. All appearance of force is sure to be re- 
sisted. Be content with the happiness of believing 
that you are in the right. If ) r our opinions are worth 
anything at all, they will not only be self-sustaining, 
but self-comforting also. 



68 PRUDENCE IN CONVERSATION. 

Should an argument occur in which you cannot 
avoid taking a part, remember that he seems to have 
the best of it that keeps his temper. Feeling more 
than thought is the tone of company. 

Take care you do not touch upon the infirmities or 
peculiarities of those present. It is difficult enough to 
convince a man himself of such, but to expose him be- 
fore the eyes of assembled company is an offence he 
will never forgive, whether you are right or wrong. Be- 
sides, he feels bound to defend himself, and ends with 
being more confirmed than ever in his eccentricity. 

Some people are very fond of " speaking their minds," 
which, when not under proper restraint, is just another 
name for being rude. Remember that people are not 
bound to please you, and the offence that makes you 
speak your mind may be in yourself and not in them. 
This is the modest and charitable aspect, and more in 
consonance with the disposition you ought to have 
when in company. If all spoke their minds what a 
chaos of thought and sentiment would the conversa- 
tion be. No — we need the oil of charity and modesty 
and prudent reserve to lubricate the machinery of our 
social converse. If this were wanting it would be an 
uninterrupted jar and screech. 

We must again warn you against the misdirection 
of your wit, if you possess it. The safest plan is to 
make it general, for when it flies at any particular 
person it may hit harder than you intended, and blow 
for blow may, begun in harmless fun, end in serious 
earnest. Nobody, including yourself, likes to be 
laughed at. 

Never hesitate to apologize when you have done a 



PRUDENCE IN CONVERSATION. 69 

wrong. The next best thing to the not having done it 
at all, is the trying to undo it by tendering your sincere 
regret at having done it. 

Perfect ease in behavior and conversation is the tem- 
per to arrive at, and that is wonderfully assisted in be- 
ing gained by attending more to the humor of the com- 
pany than to your own. As conversation is truly said 
to "flow," remember that you are only one particle of 
the fluid, and so move freejy and pleasantly with the 
others. If there be acid in your composition it will 
tinge the whole with sourness, if you do not hold it 
within yourself in secret solution. Taint not then with 
any egotistic humor " the genial current of the soul." 
Rather flow v/ith the others. If you rise to the surface 
of the general current, you may shine as you flow. 

If there be any one worthy of imitation, imitate him 
in his excellence, but not in his defects. None are 
perfect ; all have defects and faults more or less. Be 
sure you discriminate, else you run the risk of being 
simply an ape. You ought not even to copy closely 
what he shines in. You must imitate him judiciously, 
and in conformity with your own manner. Just as, 
though you may imitate the cut of a person's clothes 
which you may consider will become you, yet you do 
not take his precise measurements, nor the arrange- 
ments to meet his personal peculiarities. So though 
you imitate, yet you judiciously adapt, so as to say 
almost, you originate the excellence for yourself. We 
must all imitate something or somebody. Originality 
is the power to adapt and conform. There is no orig- 
ination in the sense of creation €rom nothing. 

Show neither a cringing nor an overbearing spirit. 



yo PRUDENCE IN CONVERSATION. 

All are upon a level in conversation. He who bears 
himself over the heads of those whom he deems his in- 
feriors is the very man to cringe to those whom he 
deems his superiors. Both are unmanly and impolitic. 

Evenness of temper and serenity of manner are ever 
indicative of the true gentleman. It is the mood of 
happiness, and affords the utmost enjoyment. Steer 
equally clear of excitement and indifference ; of frolic, 
fun, and gloomy melancholy. The even tenor of life 
and converse is the happiest and the most profitable. 

There are many minor considerations that enter into 
prudence in conversation, which may be enumerated 
with advantage. 

Do not spend your power to the utmost. Use it so 
that you may appear to have more than you spend. 

Praise your friends, and leave it to your friends to 
praise you. It never can come gracefully from your- 
self. 

You need not tell all the truth, but it is absolutely 
necessary that all you tell be true. Some, however, 
may have a right to know all the truth. And again, if 
withholding part of the truth discolor the rest, give it 
all or none at all. 

Despise not another for not possessing talent which 
you may happen to have. All have not the same tal" 
ents. He may have one you yourself do not own. 

If you risk breaking jests upon others, you must be 
prepared to have them showered upon yourself. 

Do not talk too fast, else you outrun your hearer's 
understanding. Neither talk too slow, else you fret 
your hearers into impatience and disgust. 

Never let your praise degenerate into flattery. It 



PRUDENCE IN CONVERSATION. 7 1 

would only please a fool, and will vitiate your own 
manliness. 

Be not too lavish of your time in company. Men 
are apt to despise what they can have easily, and to 
put a value on what is to be had with some difficulty. 

Remember how often you have changed your opin- 
ion, and do not be too dogmatic ; nor be angry with 
those who seem to you to be dogmatically obstinate. 

You may talk about things without confessing your- 
self bound to certain opinions. ' You may profess safely 
being in search of the truth, but confessing your 
opinion so frequently as to identify yourself with them 
tends to nail you down to their profession, and lessens 
your inclination to be open to conviction. We mean 
of course the unnecessarily putting of them forward, for 
there are certain times and occasions when it would be 
unmanly and a want of duty to conceal them. Your 
opinions, remember, are ever liable to be shaken until 
you arrive at the absolute truth, which no man can truly 
say he has attained for certain. 

It has been well said that men repent speaking ten 
times for once that they repent keeping silence. 

When discussing do not argue for the subject, but let 
the subject argue for itself. Put it thus — so much may 
be said for it ; or thus — it commends itself to our notice. 
If it cannot vindicate itself, you need not try to do it 
by mere asseveration. 

If you are desirous of gaining the good opinion of 
any one, take care how you behave towards him the 
first time you meet him. First impressions form the 
seed whence springs his future opinion of you. 

Ladies abhor anything that looks like discussion ; 



J2 USEFUL HINTS FOR CONVERSATION. 

they are the creatures of sentiment more than reason. 
They feel what is true and proper in minor matters 
without the pain or difficulty of thinking them out. 

Let every one tell his own story his own way. It is 
rude and unmannerly to interrupt him and begin to 
teach him a better. This is ever the best mode with 
illiterate people, for they are generally put out when 
trying any other method than their own. 

Be more anxious to find in what you agree with your 
company, than in what you differ. You may retain 
your own individuality, and yet contrive to chime in 
agreeably enough with the others. Individuality as- 
sumes the appearance of singularity when carried too 
far. 

Should you find yourself in company which socially 
may be considered above you, do not show your con- 
sciousness of it otherwise than by a modest, dignified 
reserve. If you are received into the conversation on 
terms of equality, do not take it as a remarkable con- 
descension. If you are slighted by any one, break off 
from his converse with you ; if you are slighted gener- 
ally by the company, retire. In both cases the advan- 
tage rests with you. 



USEFUL HINTS FOR CONVERSATION. 

If you are familiar with your inferiors, do not be sur- 
prised if your inferiors are familiar with you. Show 
respect to your superiors. Never attempt familiarity 
with them, whatever familiarity they may exhibit tow- 
ards YOU. 



USEFUL HINTS FOR CONVERSATION. 73 

Unkindly witticism leaves bitterness behind it, that 
will poison the most genial intercourse. 

Learning paraded without judgment and prudence 
will make you shine as a solemn pedantic fool. 

If you are compelled to reprove, do it kindly, so as to 
convey the least possible offence. 

Never volunteer your advice, and even when it is 
asked give it carefully and cautiously. It is easier to 
give advice than to follow it, with a prospect of success. 
He who gives it generally knows not all the special 
conditions of the case. 

Do not hazard crude conjectures regarding results. 
Things seldom turn out as they are expected. Wise 
men know this and hold their peace. 

Never talk of things in which the company have no 
interest. They may force attention, but it is sadly at 
your expense in their estimate of you. 

Never trumpet forth your own merit by recounting 
actions in which you may have gained some credit. It 
will detract from your desert and from your character 
as a disinterested and well meaning person. 

Do not " pronounce " your sentiments before com- 
pany. It will make you appear arrogant and self-con- 
ceited. 

Despise no man's conversation. The meanest may 
teach you something if you know what is intrinsically 
good, and if you can approve and appraise it for your- 
self. 

Speak your sentiments in as few words as possible. 
Tedious conversation is about the most unbearable 
that can be inflicted on a company. The current of 
talk ought to be brisk and not sluggish. 



74 USEFUL HINTS FOR CONVERSATION. 

If any person attempts to (what is vulgarly but very 
expressively termed) " pump " you with impertinent 
questions, you may politely foil him by counter ques- 
tions as answers ; you may also adroitly turn the cur- 
rent in another direction. Some think themselves justi- 
fied in mystifying such a questioner with overwhelming 
exaggeration, but this, though the person deserves it 
for his impertinence, is hardly consistent with your own 
dignity. Never think you are justified in meeting his 
question with a lie. That would be most unmanly. 

If people rail at you, never show that you are stung, 
you thereby help the railers against yourself. A good 
method of disarming them is to seem to join them 
against yourself, carrying the raillery into the absurd 
and the ridiculous. 

Never set up for a critic. It is simply electing your- 
self into being a bully of opinion. Those who are 
weak will fear and hate you ; those who are strong will 
resist and despise you. 

Remember that few are capable of judging of talents 
or genius, but all feel the difference between good and 
bad behavior. 

You may think as wisely as you can, but don't talk 
wisdom like an oracle. There, is a great difference 
between talking wisely and well, and the moral exhibi- 
tion of yourself as a retailer of oracular nostrums. 

Do not talk too much, nor yet be dumb. An empty 
barrel gives forth most sound _; but the fullest one is of 
no use unless it is tapped and runs. 

Do not form your opinion of others from isolated 
facts. A man may misbehave once and again, and yet 
be in the main a well behaved person. Remember how 



USEFUL HINTS FOR CONVERSATION. 75 

often you have forfeited your own esteem, and let your 
charity cover a multitude of sins in behavior, as in 
other things. 

If you fall into an argument, the only safe way to 
find your road out of it is by endeavoring to come at 
the truth, not by attempting to defeat your opponent. 

He who is modest and retiring, and waits judiciously 
for an opportunity to shine, has a less chance of failure 
than he who is eager to avail himself of every opportu- 
nity, calculating a greater chance the oftener he makes 
the cast. 

If you happen to find yourself on the wrong side of 
an argument, turn away from it without coming to a 
conclusion, or say handsomely that you consider your- 
self wrong. You may often do this without compromis- 
ing your judgment, as in the case of new facts being 
presented, or of facts having been falsely represented 
to you, and now seen in their true light. But never 
persevere obstinately and fight for your subject as true 
when you have reason to believe it wrong. 

Do not introduce the name of God and the devil in 
a glib, flippant manner. Do not misapply Scripture al- 
lusions, as in jests and avoid the use of all cant terms, 
by-words, and oath-words. These last are foolishly sup- 
posed to strengthen speech. They are simply disgust- 
ing and contemptible. 

Send people from your company well pleased with 
themselves, and they will be well pleased with you. 

Try and get rid of any little oddities you may have in 
your behavior, but do not despise another though he 
may have some. We see those of others more readily 
than we see our own. 



?6 GOOD TASTE. 

Avoid the conduct of those persons who, no matter 
how serious the conversation, are ever striving to dart in 
some foolish quirk or drollery. A jest to be relished 
should be thrown in naturally. 

Do not provoke any man. Weapons that cut do not 
tend to make you shine. Be not easily provoked. The 
calmer you keep yourself the greater advantage you have 
over your opponent. 

Be prudent in the kind of company you keep. By 
such will you be judged, and rightly so, for the constant 
contact will polish you to the level of their lustre. 

GOOD TASTE. 

Thus far the latter part of our method has been to 
give a detail of personal quality and manner, in a series 
of miscellaneously arranged topics; but these will not 
form the power that is necessary to produce them. 
That power is the working of a principle, and this prin- 
ciple is to be found in the self-moving power of the 
mind to guide itself along the road of life, in obedience 
to the laws made by its Maker. We do not want you 
to be made up of patchwork, or of clockwork, or of any- 
thing artificial — we wish you to be the power in your 
mind that acts in your manner as the law of true polite- 
ness demands. All that you are in, your mind passes 
off into the world through your acts, the manner of 
which is found to have as much positive influence as 
the matter — from which, however, it derives originally 
all its force. Look at the difference between an elegant 
and powerful, and a blundering, impotent speaker. 
The former can polish falsehood into a seeming truth, 



GOOD TASTE. >]J 

whilst the latter bedims and bedarkens the clearest ax- 
ioms until they become as opaque as a mill-stone. In 
fact, we would wish you to be what you would seem to 
be, and then you will have little trouble and much 
pleasure in seeming to be. It is not only the true thing, 
but the most effective and the most pleasant thing. We 
take you to be young, and ambitious of showing that 
you are worth something. You are desirous not only 
of a standing in society, but "ambitious of influencing 
that society in a manner, creditable and pleasant to 
yourself ; but would scorn to stoop to unworthy means 
to attain your end. In all probability, then, you have re- 
ceived a good average education, that will form a good 
ground-work for your endeavor. As thinking, with its 
processes and its modes, though in itself the process of 
education so far as the mind is concerned, is seldom or 
never taken into account at school, except in so far as it 
cannot be done without, even to have done what is done, 
you will have to begin, if you have not done. so before, to 
study this the great instrument of life in all its adapta- 
tions. The best thinkers are the best workmen of life. 
These are the men who carve time into money — not the 
best use of it however, but a use very potent with some. 
This, however, has to do with the morality of thought, 
and at present we have to do with the power. In all 
probability the real solid power of your education is now 
about to be formed and directed to legitimate issues. 
Energy and perseverance are required, and a good deal 
of self-denial. Set your face steadily against the small 
pleasures of the world that entice the precious time from 
you bit by bit. Set about your endeavor with the con- 
sciousness of an unavoidable responsibility. The busi- 



78 GOOD TASTE. 

ness of life now in all likelihood claims the greater part of 
your time. This is the time you are compelled by your 
necessities to convert into money, but you may at the 
same time convert it into something more — something 
that will last when your money is gone. Contact with 
the world in transacting your business will sharpen your 
powers and polish your manner, if you submit yourself 
to the process with proper aims and discriminating judg- 
ment. There is a worry in business, however, which 
merely grinds without polishing, which ought to be 
avoided if possible. Otherwise the cheerful intercourse 
of business should fit a man more and more to " shine " 
substantially and decidedly. If truth be your ideal, as 
it ought to be, the veracity of your conversation and the 
honesty of your dealings will win you respect and atten- 
tion ; but in addition it is necessary that you cultivate 
elegance of taste in order to win you favor. 

This elegance of taste, or the appreciation of what is 
beautiful in matter or manner, is the polishing principle 
that will enable you to shine truly. You may be a dia- 
mond of the first water, yet if you do not cut and polish 
and set yourself with this sesthe tic instrument, you may 
coruscate, scintillate, or flash forth light at any rate, 
but it will be fitful, temporary, and unsustained, and 
ever out of keeping and proportion with itself. Now 
what do you do with your leisure hours ? Here is an 
opportunity for you to spend them pleasantly, profita- 
bly, and dutifully in the highest sense of the term. 

A love for the beautiful is natural to man, so there 
is a natural pleasure in the pursuit of it, and all culti- 
vate an acquaintance with it more or less. Conversa- 
tion glowing with it is sure to fascinate in proportion to 



GOOD TASTE. 79 

the amount and power of the quality. This indeed is 
the true beautifier of all conversation. A memory 
teeming with knowledge and an intellect beaming with 
thought may arrest and impress with respect, but it is 
the genial fancy that beautifies with light, warmth, and 
color, which charms and captivates. Now the best drill 
for attaining this power in conversation is the culture 
of it. It takes a deal of practice to attain a power, so 
do not be discouraged if the power does not come so 
soon as desired. Besides, this one original power, if 
you acquire it, will help to form originality in all other ac- 
quirements you may have. Originality is the soul of 
all power. Originality does not mean that you create 
a power yourself unlike any other in creation. It 
means that you have formed for yourself a power in 
nature, in conformity with the laws of nature in and 
around you. You have thus a power to produce for 
yourself, which, if you have it not, you will be forced to 
derive, not in itself but in its effects, from others. Try 
to attain original not derivative ornament, and so avoid 
the imputation of the jackdaw in the peacock's feathers. 
This is not the place to give an analysis of the process 
of drill. We have space only to point out the great 
importance and the influence of the power. It may 
not be out of place, however, to give a few hints as to 
the method by which it may be acquired. 

This power is but the refinement of the other powers 
of the mind, and will be weak or strong in proportion 
to them. This is the power that makes the other pow- 
ers shine, or rather it is the power of thought and the 
sense of feeling polished so that they shine. In the 
words of the old Greek critic, " it is the image reflected 



80 GOOD TASTE. 

from the inward beauty of the soul." The mind you 
form by your education stamps the character of your 
soul, and what your soul is, that only can your manner 
be. Nor need you lament want of education. If you 
can read, and set yourself seriously to think, a world of 
teachers may be had for a very little money. Remember 
that self-education is the only real education, and at the 
best universities if the students do not educate them- 
selves they are not really educated. The best part of 
those institutions is the routine and method and disci- 
pline enforced. We do not desire, however, to depre- 
ciate those conservatories of learning, we only wish to 
impress you who have not the means nor the opportu- 
nity, that you can do very well without them. There 
is a university for the million in literature, and the 
" humanities " are now freed from the Greek and Latin 
tongues. The best teachers will instruct you, the best 
lecturers will read to you by your own fireside, but you, 
on your part, must cultivate the power of thinking and 
the habit of study. The living voice, to be sure, is no 
longer there to thrill with enthusiasm, and undoubtedly 
if you have the means and opportunity you should get 
a living instructor whose soul will come into living 
contact with your own. 

In this wonderful world there are many fields of in- 
quiry open to you wherein you may gather for yourself 
materials for exercising your powers of thought, but 
there is one in which every one must aetapt a sphere of 
labor, and wherein he may gather ample materials for 
the purposes of thought, and that is humanity. What 
we term pure literature is the record of it, and it is ever 



GOOD TASTE. 8 1 

living round about us, and continually coming into con- 
tact with us. 

Useful knowledge may now be gleaned under the 
most favorable circumstances in consequence of the 
vast harvests that are continually being gathered in. A 
cheap printing press — cheap on account of the extent of 
the demand for its treasures — sends the wisest and most 
learned teachers to instruct the poorest respectable man. 
It rests with himself to make his knowledge and wis- 
dom not only useful but ornamental. There is more 
true knowledge at the present day in our shops and 
counting-houses than there was of old in the most 
learned universities. Facts are infinitely more useful 
than the subtlest distinctions of imputed qualities, 
labored disquisitions on possible entities, and intermi- 
nable logomachies. Classic Latin and scholastic logic 
" are nowhere," compared with our own simple vernac- 
ular English and common sense. Make physical sci- 
ence or the knowledge of facts the whetstone of your 
mind, and polish it into refinement with literature. 
Physics may be studied at any of our mechanics' insti- 
tutions for a fee merely nominal, so that none who have 
any pretensions at all to the improvement of their 
minds labor under difficulties of means and opportuni 
ties which they cannot surmount. The finest results 
have been attained by the simplest means. 

Nothing makes a greater difference between people 
engaged in conversation than different degrees and 
methods of knowledge. An ignorant person, if he 
knows his own ignorance, can at least begin to learn, 
and so be in the way of improving, but often his great- 
est ignorance is that he does not know his own igno- 
6 



$2 GOOD TASTE. 

ranee, and this is a hopeless case indeed. Of course, 
if a man, however learned, takes himself to task about 
his own positive knowledge, he will find himself not so 
learned as he thought, and after such an ordeal he is 
apt to say that he is really but an ignorant person at 
the best, but still he knows something, however little 
that be, and that little is a great deal compared 
with the knowledge of a person who has bestowed no 
attention at all upon the subject. We should always 
hold ourselves capable of learning by cultivating the 
disposition to do so, and then we shall feel aston- 
ished at our ability to understand the most difficult 
questions that may come before us. 

Wrong-headedness is a worse state of mind than ab- 
solute ignorance. It may almost be called a modified 
type of madness. A chaos of ideas must result in con- 
fusion of thought and unwise action. This arises from 
slovenliness and want of method in thinking. A per- 
son w-ho allows himself to fall into such a state, and to 
contract so idle and hurtful a habit, can never meet 
with respect in the interchange of social converse, 
This is what the poet Burns called " an in-kneed sort 
of a soul." 

The man of learning, whose knowledge has been 
arranged by systematic method so that he can produce 
it at will when required, produces a current of conver- 
sation that flows clearly and pleasantly, especially w r hen 
that knowledge is made to bear the precious burden of 
wise and beautiful thoughts. 

Of course the end we aim at here — to be a tolerably 
well informed gentleman so that one may occupy a not 
undignified position in the social circle — is not the only • 



GOOD TASTE. 83 

nor the highest aim achieved, though the one more im- 
mediately sought for at present. The higher aim we 
have throughout kept in view is one never to be relin- 
quished for a present and merely transient good. 

With regard to advice as to what should form spe- 
cially the subject of our studies, the following words of 
Thomas Carlyle are much to the point. A young friend 
had written to him for advice on the subject, and was 
answered thus : — " It would give me true satisfaction 
could any advice of mine contribute to forward you in 
your honorable course of self-improvement, but a long 
experience has taught me that advice can profit but 
little ; that there is a good reason why advice is so sel- 
dom followed ; this reason, namely, that it is so seldom 
and can almost never be rightly given. No man knows 
the state of another ; it is always to some more or less 
imaginary man that the wisest and most honest adviser 
is speaking. 

" As to the books which you — whom I know so little 
of — should read, there is hardly anything definite that 
can be said. For one thing, you may be strenuously 
advised to keep reading. Any good book, any book 
that is wiser than yourself, will teach you something — 
a great many things, indirectly and directly, if your 
mind be open to learn. Tin's old counsel of Johnson's 
is also good, and universally applicable : ' Read the 
book that you do honestly feel a wish and curiosity to 
read.' The very wish and curiosity indicate that you, 
then and there, are the person likely to get good of it. 
1 Our wishes are presentiments of our capabilities ; ' 
that is a noble saying, of deep encouragement to all 
true men ; applicable to our wishes and efforts in re- 



84 GOOD TASTE. 

gard to reading, as to other things. Among all the ob- 
jects that look wonderful or beautiful to you, follow 
with fresh hope the one that looks wonderfullest, beau- 
tifullest. You will gradually find, by various trials 
— which trials see that you make honest, manful ones, 
not silly, short, fitful ones — what is for you the wonder- 
fullest, beautifullest, what is your true element and 
province, and be able to profit by that. 

"All books are properly the record of the history of 
past men, what thoughts past men had in them, what ac- 
tions past men did ; the summary of all books whatso- 
ever lies there. It is on this ground that the class of 
books specifically named History, can be safely recom- 
mended as the basis of all study of books — the prelim- 
inary to all right and full understanding of anything we 
can expect to find in books. Past history, and espe- 
cially the past history of one's native country, everybody 
may be advised to begin with that. Let him study that 
faithfully ; innumerable inquiries will branch out from it. 
He has a broad beaten highway, from which all the 
country is more or less visible ; there travelling, let him 
choose where he will dwell. 

" Neither let mistakes and wrong directions — of which 
every man, in his studies and elsewhere falls into many 
— discourage you. There is precious instruction to be got 
by finding that we are wrong. Let a man try faithfully, 
manfully to be right ; he will grow daily more and more 
right. It is, at bottom, the condition on which all men 
have to cultivate themselves. Our very walking is an 
incessant falling ; a falling and a catching of ourselves 
before we come actually to the pavement ! " It is em- 
blematic of all things a man does. 



GOOD TASTE. 85 

" In conclusion, I will remind you that it is not by 
books alone, or by books chiefly, that a man becomes in 
all points a man. Study to do faithfully whatsoever 
thing in your actual situation, there and now, you find 
either expressly or tacitly laid to your charge ; that is 
your post ; stand in it like a true soldier. Silently de- 
vour the many chagrins of it, as all human situations 
have many ; and see you aim not to quit it without do- 
ing all that it, at least, required of you. A man perfects 
himself by work much more than by reading. They 
are a growing kind of men that can wisely combine the 
two things — wisely, valiantly, can do what is laid to 
their hand in their present sphere, and prepare them- 
selves withal for doing other wider things, if such lie 
before them." 

All this advice is sterling wisdom, and of infinite value 
to the man who wishes to form the power we are desir- 
ous he should form within himself. A man who moulds 
himself so, will have force and energy of his own 
which will make itself felt in whatever sphere he may 
find himself. But attend more specially in the mean 
time to that part of the advice in which he says : 
" Among all the objects that look wonderful or beauti- 
ful to you, follow with fresh hope, the one that looks 
wonderfullest, beautifullest." 

" Walk with the beautiful and with the grand, 
Let nothing on the earth thy feet deter ; 
Sorrow may lead thee moping by the hand, 
But give not all thy bosom thoughts to her. 
Walk with the beautiful. 

" I hear thee say ' The beautiful ! What is i t ? ' 
Oh, thou art darkly ignorant — be sure 



86 GOOD TASTE. 

'Tis no long weary road its form to visit, 

For thou can'st make it smile beside thy door. 
Then love the beautiful. 

" Thy bosom is its mint, the workmen are 

Thy thoughts, and they must coin for thee ; 
The beautiful is master of a star, 

Thou mak'st it so, but art thyself deceiving 
If otherwise thy faith." 

Yes; the beautiful is coin that shining fresh from 
the mint of your thoughts in conversation will dazzle 
and fascinate the receivers, and will win favor and 
reputation for the coiner and distributor. The culture 
of the beautiful in thought and expression, is the fin- 
ishing polish to all the other solid acquirements and 
abilities of your mind and manner. The beautiful is 
the irresistible and the invincible. We now proceed 
to give a few hints on the acquirement of this valuable 
state of thought and feeling. 

We do not mean that you are to get up the power of 
talking the beautiful so as to shine amidst your com- 
peers, and eclipse them by your beautiful talk. We 
mean you so to steep your powers in an ever present 
consciousness of the beautiful, so that it may pervade 
your entire being, and settle down into the habitual 
exercise of a good and elegant taste. 

For this purpose it is not necessary that you enter 
into a metaphysical study of the beautiful, wherein you 
may get bewildered and lost in attempting to find some 
ideal standard. Study it as you would the true and 
the good — study it along with these, and your percep- 
tion will not readily fail to see it when it is present. 



GOOD TASTE. %7 

This faculty extends to* such a variety of subjects 
that there is hardly a phase of your conduct not af- 
fected by it. Take the example of color. How much 
does a due appreciation of fitness in harmony or con- 
trast affect your personal appearance in the matter of 
dress. By that alone will your claim to elegant taste 
be judged by society. See what a difference between 
the uncultured taste of the country bumpkin, the fash- 
ionable taste of the city swell, and the cultured refine- 
ment of the thorough gentleman/ Again, in the matter 
of sound, what a vast difference between the ungov- 
erned, because untrained, voice of the blustering 
talker, and the obedient, pliant, mellow bell-tone of the 
elegant speaker. The former rends the air with disso- 
nance, and our hearts with discord ; the latter with per- 
suasive pathos floats through our charmed ears into 
our assenting and consenting hearts. 

With regard to beauty of form, we presume much 
need not be said, as all are aware how powerful it is in 
its effects. We have little control over the form that 
nature has given us except by modifying its appear- 
ance, but even that is a good deal under our control. 
We do not appear in society as nature has turned us 
out of her hands. We pass through the hands of the 
barber, the tailor, the shoemaker, the hatter, etc., and 
we pass a good deal through our own hands daily. In 
all these modifications of nature there is wide room for 
the exercise of an elegant taste, or the contrary. 

As a matter of course all the several possible modi- 
fications of what is elegant and tasteful come under 
the common term of what is elegant in thought and in 
feeling. The several manifestations of taste are but 



88 GOOD TASTE. 

the expression of these outwardly, and derive all their 
truth and beauty and propriety of effect from the genu- 
ine power and quality of these as they exist and are 
developed in the mind. 

The power and the habit are best obtained by the 
formal pursuit of some art-study, as the composition 
and expression of thought in prose or verse, the art of 
drawing or painting, or some study which takes you 
into the habitual presence of the beautiful— in fact, 
any pursuit that makes you think continuously regard- 
ing that wonderful beautiful arrangement of things 
which made the old Greeks call the world by the same 
term they had to express beauty. 

There is one sphere of good taste more suited to 
those for whom we are writing than any other, and 
that is the culture of good taste in thought and feeling 
through the habitual culture of it in our literature, and 
even the literary culture of it in written expression. 
" Reading," says Bacon, " maketh a full man, confer- 
ence a ready man, and writing an exact man." By pe- 
rusing the elegant in literature, the fine taste will im- 
pregnate your thoughts till you become full of it. By 
talking the elegance over with your associates you will 
the more readily make them subservient to your own 
refinement; but only by bringing them to a strict 
scrutiny and account with your own pen will you make 
their influence felt and their nature and effects definite 
and exact. You have not at all times friends willing 
and ready enough to talk matters over, but whenever 
you please you may take up your pen or your pencil, 
and bring yourself or your thoughts to book. Think- 
ing or even talking a matter over is vapory in its results 



GOOD TASTE. 89 

compared with writing it over. And then writing 
comprehends all other particular modes, for it compre- 
hends all that is in thought. There is no pursuit that 
will react on your conversation like writing. Remem- 
ber, however, it is not writing for others, but for your- 
self. There is a mawkish sentimentality about writing 
which is most pernicious. No sooner does one men- 
tion writing than there rises up the absurd notion of 
" turning author." As well link the idea of " turning 
spouter " with the art of speech. In these days every- 
body should possess the art of writing as well as the arts 
of reading, and speaking, and of doing it well too. Ay 
— and even the art of versifying should not be neg- 
lected with supercillious scorn and contempt as it is by 
cotton-hearted money-makers, for as by learning to 
dance, we gain grace to the motion as we walk, so by 
causing our words to move in numbers, we gain elasticity 
and elegance to the rhythm of our prose. This repro- 
ducing of the elegant in our own words tends to consol- 
idate and establish our habit of thinking in good taste, 
and acting in good taste is only one step farther, and 
the former must be had before the latter can be 
taken. 

Thought and behavior are so intimately related that 
you can hardly cultivate elegance in the former, with- 
out a corresponding result in the latter. There is no 
reason for a hypocrisy in this, and so the thought will 
naturally reveal itself in the manner. Again, behavior 
can only sustain itself consistently when it flows from 
an ever-springing fount of thought. That fount derives 
its spring from the depths of a large experience, on 
which have fallen the dews and showers of many read- 



90 GOOD TASTE. 

ings and studyings and thinkings. Tennyson finely 
and truly says, 

" For who can always act but he 
To whom a thousand memories call ? " 

A man's memories shower upon him inducements 
that compel him to act ; the remembered thoughts are 
the potent ones, and the earnestly acted ones. 

You see that conversation is not limited to talking 
merely — it embraces your general conduct as well. 
The tongue indeed has a wonderful empire of its own, 
but it merely produces the echo of the thought, on which 
it depends for its force and its beauty. But the be- 
havior is the expression of the man, and the impres- 
sion made comes from the more effective stamp of the 
entire earnest character. 

To be able to surround yourself and others in the 
social circle with delight and happiness is surely to 
have the power of shining to advantage in a most 
legitimate and most delightful way. But this will de- 
pend in a great measure on the associates of your 
thoughts. Are you content to choose these from those 
of common-place quality, or from those which are ever 
found in the highest places — the palaces of thought ? 

Observe then that the transmutation of your coarser 
metal into finer, and the refinement of that into finer 
still, is done within the laboratory of your brain, and 
here it is that you must work out the process of know- 
ing " how to shine " with a true and becoming lustre. 
You have, moreover, every inducement to make your- 
self at home in this, happy and contented, for it is about 
the pleasantest occupation a man can be engaged in, 



GOOD TASTE. 9 1 

and deepens and broadens and brightens, day after day 
spent upon it, our personal pleasure and happiness. 
Real and imaginary pleasures are very often con- 
founded. In the testing laboratory of real thought, 
what is supposed to be real pleasure often changes into 
a solution of vanity with a pale precipitate of sorrow ; 
and what appears to be purely imaginary becomes a dur- 
able and lasting — sometimes everlasting — solid. There 
is a misnamed elegant taste in the world, which is a 
vitiated and corrupted one. A man may have what is 
really capable of yielding a result, and yet may not be 
able to make it yield it to him ; he may not* have the 
wisdom to extract or distil, though he may have the ma- 
terial. Of course he must have the material to be able 
to perform the process ; but the process is quite a dis- 
tinct thing from the material, and you may buy the ma- 
terial but you cannot buy your own act of the process 
— that is entirely a personal thing. But the rights of 
property in this matter of taste are vested only in those 
who can use them, not merely in those who possess 
them, so that this beautiful little world is ever open to 
those who choose to enter in and possess it. Hazlitt 
humorously and somewhat truly describes this in the 
following racy description : — " When I am in the coun- 
try, all the fine seats near the place of my residence, 
and to which I have access, I regard as mine. The 
same I think of the groves and fields where I walk, and 
muse on the folly of the civil landlord in London, who 
has the fantastical pleasure of draining dry rents into 
his coffers, but is a stranger to the fresh air and rural 
enjoyments. By these principles I am possessed of half- 
a-dozen of the finest seats in England, which, in the eye 



92 GOOD TASTE, 

of the law, belong to certain of my acquaintances, who, 
being men of business, choose to live near the court." 
Is not this true and real enjoyment without the troubles 
and anxieties that detract from the pleasure, which the 
possessor necessarily has in the owning, and the main- 
tenance of the ownership ? 

" In some great families," naively continues Hazlitt, 
" where I choose to pass my time, a stranger would be 
apt to rank me with the other domestics ; but, in my 
own thoughts and natural judgment, I am master of 
the house, and he who goes by that name is my steward, 
who eases me of the care of providing for myself the 
conveniences and pleasures of life." Though quiet, 
what satire could be more pungent on the folly of think- 
ing we are happy and enjoying life, if we are master of 
a splendid establishment, ornamented to the full with 
magnificent display. To those born in, and born to, 
high life, what splendid misery to be born to such as 
mere necessities of existence ; and to those born 
in humble life, but to whose unremitting exertions, 
high life, the beacon of all their toiling hopes, has at 
length come as the crowning reward, what splendid 
disappointment and sorrow to attempt, with daily failure? 
to crush some sweet out of the daily glitter and the 
show ! What is not in them cannot be taken out of 
them. What is sought after is in the refinement of the 
mind, and may be had without them — -at least without 
paying for them in false circumstance or a lifetime of 
slavery. 

How exquisitely does he continue his good humored 
satire in the following, and notice that he speaks from 
a conscious possession of the very power we wish you 



GOOD TASTE, 93 

to have : — " When I walk the streets I use the foregoing 
natural maxim, — that he is the true possessor of a thing 
who enjoys it, and not he that owns it, without the en- 
joyment, — to convince myself that I have a property in 
the gay part of all the gilt chariots that I meet, which I 
regard as amusements designed to delight my eyes, and 
the imagination of those kind people who sit in them 
gayly attired only to please me." And so he goes on 
with a wonderful sense of pleasure and contentment, 
without the least feeling of envy, and without allowing 
the slightest room for it to exist. How grandly he does 
his casting of the account between real and imaginary 
pleasures. " But the pleasure which naturally affects 
a human mind with the most lively and transporting 
touches, I take to be the sense that we act in the eye 
of infinite wisdom, power, and goodness that will crown 
our virtuous endeavors here, with a happiness here- 
after, large as our desires, and lasting as our immortal 
souls This is a perpetual spring of gladness in the 
mind. This lessens our calamities, and doubles our 
joys. Without this, the highest state of life is insipid, 
and with it the lowest is a paradise." When a road 
leads to such a grand conclusion, you are pretty safe in 
travelling along it. It is along this one we desire you 
to go in your search for the pleasing refinement, that is 
to make you a pleasing companion on the way of life, 
and in those little gatherings by the wayside, which we 
denominate social. Along this road are the wayside 
flowers we desire you to pluck, and over its May- 
laden hedges are to be seen those beautiful pictures, 
which we desire you to cover the walls of your memory 
with. You will thrill and bound with the impulse of 



94 THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 

gladness, or be socially companionable with the quiet 
serenity of pleasant contentment. You will be sure to 
attain the minor purpose we have more immediately in 
view — you will begin in the spirit of not offending, and, 
as you gradually gain power, you will continue to gain 
favor for yourself, until your companionship is sought 
after for the profit and pleasure it imparts. 

There are various little matters of tact and taste 
which are only to be acquired by the observation of ex- 
ample and the teaching of experience, but the great 
faculty and the disposition lie in such pursuits and as- 
sociations. The elements of the conduct of life must 
be learned in some school wherein the actual conduct 
is but comparatively practical — where it is in a great 
measure merely ideal ; and so the elements of good 
taste and the ideal of good breeding must be derived 
from the teachings of those eloquent instructors that 
catch the living manners as they rise, test them by the 
ideal of what is correct and becoming, and impress 
them on our minds with a quietness and a beauty, that 
make them pleasing for the time, and leave a happiness 
behind them forever. So intimately knit in themselves 
and their consequences are the true, the good and the 
beautiful. 

THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 

The topics of conversation are not often of our own 
suggesting at the outset, but we should be rationally 
well informed so as to meet the exigencies of the con- 
versation, whatever direction its current may take. 
The wider your range of information, the more of 



THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 95 

cour.se have you the means of taking a part in it. You 
have the whole circle of the sciences and the arts to 
glean from. You need not enter into them like a pro- 
fessional scholar, but you may take from them gradu- 
ally materials for thinking like a thinking man. You 
need not be an omnivorous swallower of encyclopae- 
dic description, but you must be an honest and care- 
ful digester of whatever you take into your mental stom- 
ach, else it will deaden the finer energies of your 
mind. The memory in some is but a great lumber cel- 
lar of odds and ends, that can never be conveniently 
got at to be of any practical use — a want of method in 
the storing has so confused and mixed them altogether. 
Whatever you do learn, learn it methodically. We do 
not mean the method of mere rote, but the method of 
nature and of reason. This reasonable method will 
keep you correct and accurate. You will never feel 
wrong or confused. Above all, see that you have defi- 
nite notions, and definite terms for those notions. A 
loose desultory habit of reading, a loose unmethodical 
habit of thinking, and a loose indefinite manner of 
speaking, will make but a sorry conversable member of 
society. He shines to advantage who is decided and 
definite through all. 

No conversation can go on for any length of time 
without opportunities for you to add your quota to the 
general stock. Indeed, the opportunities occur so fre- 
quently that the danger lies in contributing without dis- 
crimination and judgment, simply because you know 
something that will just fit. How irresistible is the in- 
clination of two or three to speak at the same time, 
with ill-concealed impatience for him who is speaking 



g6 THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 

to be finished as quickly as possible. Topics are likely 
rather to crowd in upon you than to fail you, and must 
be put under judicious restraint. 

We have already referred to scandal as a pet topic in 
social parties, but as one to be deliberately discounte- 
nanced and avoided. Anything that partakes of an im- 
mediately personal character is sure to breed spleen 
and envy and ill-will. Leave out of account your sorry 
little selves, and introduce things that are useful and 
noble and beautiful, so that you may be lifted out of 
yourselves into an atmosphere of higher elevation and 
superior refinement. Anything is better to talk about 
than self, and the comparison, manifested or implied, 
of that sorry little wretch with others, which all scandal 
basis its abominable existence on. Scandal mongers 
poison the airiest and the sunniest atmosphere of talk 
with their black breath-clouds of evil report. Every one 
should be interested in making them collapse. 

The news of the day is a topic that rarely fails to 
come upon the carpet. The daily newspaper supplies 
the daily fresh material, with a varied miscellany of 
subjects to gratify every kind of taste. Beware, how- 
ever, of rushing into the extreme of being a quidnunc, 
who bores every one he meets with, " Well, what's up 
now ? " the modern quidnunc's favorite slang expression. 
Of course the bore is just as offensive, though couched 
in a more elegant phrase. 

There is a topic that no one of the least pretension 
to refinement would ever think of taking part in, and 
that is dilating with zest on the grosser appetites and 
passions of our nature. These, though as necessary, 
and in their place as useful as the higher attributes of 



THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 97 

our nature, are judiciously kept out of sight in unobtru- 
sive retirement. Even at dinner, where you cannot 
avoid talking a little "gout," it must be done in an 
easy passing manner, and must not be much dwelt on. 
With regard to the more solid topics of conversation, 
careful reading will certainly supply you with as large 
a stock as you desire to have, but these will be apt to 
be indefinite and intangible, unless you reason them 
out in your own process of thought, and condense them 
into your own words in writing. It is wonderful what 
a power and mastery this simple habit of writing down 
your thoughts gives you. Feeble and crude at first, 
like everything else in its beginning, by and by it gains 
strength and power, until the words come as readily 
from the pen as from the tongue. It is just taking ac. 
count of your thoughts in a daybook of topics, or as it 
is generally termed, a common-place book. It is just 
habituating yourself to talking on paper, with the defi- 
niteness and precision which is thereby inexorably de- 
manded, in order that you may the more easily dis- 
course on those subjects when the restraint of the 
paper is withdrawn, as a precise and exacting drill con- 
fers ease and elasticity on the deportment, when the 
rigidity of the form is withdrawn, and gives place to a 
more chastened relaxation. When you enter social 
converse you are going to " trade," as the Americans 
say. Well, the merchant who has a methodical invoice 
of his goods has in the "trading" the advantage of 
him that has none. The very writing of it out fixes the 
articles on his memoiy; and he can the more readily, 
and the more accurately, condescend on particulars. 
He is more the master of his subject, and of course the 
7 



98 THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 

subject is more his servant, being therefore more 
obedient to his bidding. 

Remember, however, that the absolute truth of a 
subject can rarely be made evident, and that variety of 
opinion is infinite. Each one speculates according to 
the circle of his vision, and no two see things exactly 
alike. Every one loves his own opinion dearly — it is 
the fondly nursed child of his brain, and there are no 
children like our own. Do not be afraid of being 
looked upon as foolish, because you have no opinion 
to give on a subject. Those are the foolish persons 
who risk a random opinion rather than have nothing to 
say. If you have anything at all to say, it is better to 
say it than say nothing, but see that you say it at the 
proper time and in a proper way. Prudence and cir- 
cumspection will make your little tell more than a great 
deal pronounced without judgment and discrimination. 
And do you, Sir Oracle, think that because you have 
the assurance to decide upon every matter for the en- 
tire company, you shine the one lone star of the even- 
ing? Your voice is loud and strong, your eye bold 
and confident, and your manner emphatic and decisive. 
You overawe the weak and you impose on the foolish, 
but you irritate the strong and disgust the wise. If 
you are not pulled down from your supercilious pedes- 
tal, it is because you are despised as not being worth 
the trouble. 

It is the careful reflective mind that ultimately gives 
direction and tone to opinion. This is most apparent 
in the wider range of the entire social system, wherein 
public opinion directs all the vital and effective move- 



THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 99 

merits. This is generated by that common sense which 
in the main is the root of all true growth of opinion. 

Though you have selected carefully and discrimin- 
ately the commonplaces of your talk, that does not 
mean that your conversation is to be what is generally 
meant by the epithet commonplace. A commonplace 
talker is a decided bore of society, and a most weari- 
some one too. In him there is nothing fresh, nothing 
new. He has the same old topics you have heard 
times without number; and these have become to you 
"stale, flat, and unprofitable." His limited and stereo- 
typed commonplaces have conferred an equivocal dis- 
tinctive degradation upon the term which its original 
signification did not imply. But he degrades all sub- 
jects by his insipid " hacking " of them to death. His 
parrotry seems to emanate from his tongue merely as 
sounds that, though they have entered through his ear, 
have never thrilled the rational nerves of his brain, but 
have been merely echoed back as they happened to 
come. Nothing distinctive has been added. Any 
body might have uttered them. They bear no interest 
that anybody can have the slightest feeling for. They, 
strike with the monotony that magnetizes our senses 
with indifference, and we feel ourselves condemned to 
dulness, and plunged in the misery of eunui. 

The weather is a favorite subject with such, and it 
is about the best one they have, as it, at least in this 
land, is continually changing itself and keeping itself 
new and fresh. It is but a prelude, however, to the 
same old stories you know so well already, familiarity 
with which has bred in you so much contempt and dis- 
gust. Given the subject, you know exactly what they 



IOO THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 

will say — nay, you can imitate their very speech and 
manner from, alas, a too frequently refreshed memory. 
You feel the spring of your mind relaxed as soon as 
you come in contact with them. There is no use try- 
ing to force them, for they are thorough imbeciles, not 
having the least spark of that glorious fire of thought 
which spreads with a blaze of suggestiveness when 
mind meets mind quick with power. To have the 
words that burn, we must have the thoughts that glow. 
The shallow rills of mere language which flow from the 
commonplace talker, are deep enough to damp and 
drown out of you the expression of all but the most 
trivial thoughts and feelings. You are dragged down 
necessarily to his miserable level, for you cannot pull 
him up to yours. But you know better than to make 
yourself miserable ; you sedulously avoid him and leave 
him to-herd with others like himself who are not bur- 
dened with much weight of thought. 

As great a bore as the commonplace talker is the 
everlasting story-teller. Whatever the topic of con- 
versation, he manages to link himself to it with, " Oh, 
that reminds me of a story," etc., or, " Oh, that reminds 
me of what happened on a similar occasion," and so he 
lugs himself and his story into the conversation, and 
runs away with the talk and the patience of the whole 
company. The remotest association is enough for him 
to embark on his interminable story-telling, or ever to 
be remembered reminiscences, and frequently the cur- 
rent is turned deplorably awry ere he has done with his 
misappropriation of the general talk. 

The genial and consistent flow of conversation is 
often sadly interrupted by the random and the impul- 



THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. IOI 

sive talkers. The random speakers have no judgment 
or discretion either with regard to the topics under dis- 
cussion or to the persons discussing. They may dis- 
concert for a short time, and if persistent may annoy 
extremely, but in the end the diverted attention recoils 
in anger and contempt upon their own empty heads. 
The impulsive speakers running on ahead or dragging 
wofully in the rear, annoy chiefly by their unsteady 
pace. Nobody can bear the constantly varying attention 
demanded by the attempt to place one's self alongside 
of their thoughts. There is nothing contributes more 
to harmony of conversation than the being in tune as it 
were with the company. You may blend harmoniously 
and yet retain your own distinctive contrast of individ- 
uality. This adapting of yourself and your topic to the 
tone of the company is indeed one of the primary and 
principal requisites to please. 

All this theory which we have laid down will be of no 
use to you without practice. Don't imagine that im- 
mediately after cramming all this into your head, you 
can go and act it in the first company you enter. No 
such a thing. If you have not already begun, you must 
begin ; and that beginning will in all likelihood be full 
of blunders ; but you need not be discouraged, for every 
one blunders more or less into success, and success wipes 
out most effectually the remembrance of all blunders ; 
but only through the blundering, more or less, lies your . 
way. A wise prudence and a circumspect watchfulness 
will save you from many mistakes, and recover you from 
more. Whatever ground you loose, never loose your 
presence of mind or your patience. The most marked 
external aspect of a true gentleman is that self-contained 



102 THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 

manner which impresses with a sense of conscious worth 
without suspicion of pretension attached, except what 
can be fully laid claim to. This firm composure fixes 
itself more and more surely, until it kindly commands 
respect. This manner is the best basis for all conver- 
sational excellence to stand on. It amply admits that 
calm consideration which is a condition of the humblest 
attempt to please. 

Our parting advice shall be a recapitulatory one. 
Remember that our subject is an art, and as such must 
be dependent on science for its principles, and is in it- 
self a habitual acting. What you have learned, rehearse 
as quietly as you can in some comparatively unimpor- 
tant theatre of talk. You can never go wrong by mak- 
ing your debut in the humblest style. Take your seat 
at the lowest end of the table, and win your way to the 
highest. It is the natural and the healthiest mode in 
everything. Never dream of bursting full blaze upon 
the public stage, thinking that because you have the 
conception in your head, you have the complete persona- 
tion at your finger-ends. That would be sure to bring 
you defeat and shame. The ground is slippery at the 
first tread ; proceed cautiously, and step by step. Grad 
ually it will become more familiar and more under con- 
trol. Then you will find yourself under less restraint, 
but through all strive to retain confidence in yourself. 
The moment that is gone, disasters begin. Should 
accidents happen to disturb your equanimity, ignore 
them yourself, and everybody will soon forget them. 
All that you have really to do with them is to profit by 
them. Don't suffer yourself, above all things, to be 
re-tortured by them in the recollection. If you treat 



THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 103 

them good-naturedly they will be forgotten ; if you show 
that they annoy you they will be sure to be fetched again 
from oblivion by some ill-natured tormentor. Do not 
formally prepare yourself by dressing your mind and 
your tongue, as you would your body before going into 
select company, but be always in the way of preparation, 
and always hold yourself prepared — it is your natural 
mood as a man. The same preparation serves you in 
acquiring one of the most useful qualities in life — ad- 
dress. You should, however, take care to be " posted 
up " to the latest in all your topics, so far as your 
means enable you. This imparts to your conversation 
that freshness which is so acceptable in all circles. 
Some professed " diners out " and " hangers on " may 
think it worth while to con their intended conversa- 
tional programme by heart in set witticisms and pretty 
little speeches and stories, but that is pretty acting, 
not gentlemanly behavior. It is a dignified preparation 
we would recommend to you, not one of such fussy 
small-talk ambition. Your quiet self-possessed manner 
will then gracefully become your method of well-weighed 
reflective thought, and will impress with a feeling of 
respect and pleasure. 

But nothing ever required more formal and more 
thorough habitual preparation — nay, positive training — 
than the organ which gives expression to your thoughts 
and feelings. This physical instrument with its me- 
chanical effect must be kept in constant working order 
by habitual and judicious practice. The voice in fact 
has to be ground down to power and sweetness, and it 
always requires grinding to keep it strong and mellow. 
It has been a cause for complaint that our church bells 



104 THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 

are not constant with each other in harmony. They 
too often wrangle like sectaries of differing creeds. 
There is cause for much greater complaint that people 
do not tune their voices to please each other in daily 
ringing their thoughts into each other's hearts. Our 
conversation and the mood it induces would be all the 
pleasanter for the improvement. Thought that comes 
chiming into our heart makes us glad. What comes 
jarring through our ears makes us nervously uncom- 
fortable. The human voice can be made so rich and 
sweet at the smallest expense of attention and judgment 
that harshness is quite inexcusable. A harsh squeak- 
ing voice will assuredly destroy all other excellences 
of thought and behavior. The sweet subtle penetration 
of a tone thrilling with the pathos of persuasion is irre- 
sistible. It is the heart that listens, not merely the ear 
and the brain. Remember too that the fascinating 
power of the soul is poured through the eye as well as the 
tongue. Let the eye and the tongue not only corrobo- 
rate but intensify each other in expressing the full mean- 
ing of the thought. The tongue may deceive, the eye 
never. Not the particular thought, of course, but the 
general and the ruling passions print themselves legibly 
in the eye, and can be read — nay, felt, even by a very su- 
perficial observer. So do not distract the impression, 
nor destroy it by making them talk to cross purposes. 
Let them mutually aid each other to make the impres- 
sion intenser and stronger. At the same time that you 
are ever ready to step into the full pace of the conver- 
sation, have the reins of your tongue and your sense 
well in hand, that you may be able to pull up at once 
when required in favor of another, and resume at once 



THE TOPICS OF CONVERSATION. 105 

when your own turn comes round. Restraint within 
your natural power makes a more effective impression 
than running out to the full extent of your pace, and at 
length pulling up from exhaustion. These are the 
principal points in the mode, and now let us briefly sum 
up the chief points of the morale. Begin by not giving 
offence ; that is the only way to end by pleasing. 
Avoid flattering people to their face, and stabbing them 
behind their back ; or blessing them with the one hand 
while you strike a deadly blow with the other. It is very 
bad to be a person capable of such conduct, but fre- 
quently the person who conducts himself so is not a bad 
fellow at heart — he has merely donned a bad moral hab- 
it, because it is a little fashionable, and looks a little 
smartish. Take care of being considered either a know- 
nothing or a know-every thing. The being a " perfect 
ignoramus " is not more to be avoided than the being 
au fait in regard to every person or occurrence that 
comes upon the carpet. It is an ostentation of impos- 
sibilities, and though you may consider yourself very 
knowing, or rather that you are impressing others with 
the belief that you are very knowing, you are simply mak- 
ing game of yourself for others in company where you are 
not invited to shine. You are sure to be hanged upon 
your own gallows. The only means of information the 
" know-everything " generally has is grounded on trust 
from the newsmongers, yet by his assurance and confi- 
dent assertion you would, if you did not know him, 
believe that he had been behind the curtain and seen 
the whole with his own eyes. The direction taken by 
such a speaker is generally the wonderful in matters of 
occurrence, or the sarcastically bitter in matters of 



106 TRAVELLING. 

character. Yet positive falsehood or malice prepense may 
not be in the talker's heart, only the vain desire to be 
considered " up to everything," or not to be considered 
sentimental. Avoid all false glitter and that which* 
gleams only to pierce. Dare not only to have feeling 
but to show it. Sensibility is the characteristic that 
forms the most truly attractive behavior. Enter with 
delicacy into the feelings of others, consult their in- 
clinations, respect their opinions, and relieve them from 
all embarrassment and anxiety, and you will shine 
not only before their eyes, but into their very hearts, 
which result is not only the greatest intellectual but 
the greatest moral triumph that can grace your be- 
havior in attempting "how to shine." 

In conclusion, let us remind you of what we insisted 
on at the beginning, — that a dignified and pleasing 
manner can only fit truthfully and gracefully a worthy 
and manly nature. The ease and dignity of the true 
gentleman can only flow from real native worth. Re- 
member that the beauty and brilliancy of the polish is 
more due to the grain of the substance than to any 
solid virtue in the burnish. Consider too of how much 
importance it is for even the brightest diamond to be 
properly cut, and judiciously set, to shine to the great- 
est advantage. 

TRAVELLING. 

When travelling, a gentleman may say as many civil 
and complimentary things to a lady as can be intro- 
duced, in an easy, graceful and unconstrained manner, 
free from all appearance of low gallantry : it casts an 



TRAVELLING. 107 

air of friendly feeling around you. Listen to the pros- 
ing of Ciceroni and Custode, but never expose their ig. 
norance, when you detect it : it vexes them, and does 
you no good. Look at the people, the sights, scenery 
and monuments with your own eyes ; form your own 
opinions, aided by the best information you can obtain ; 
and do not follow servilely the track of the would-be 
liberal tourists of the modern school, who admire every 
thing in proportion as it deviates from what is foreign. 
If you have travelled in a frank and cheerful mood, then 
it will be delightful to discuss your adventures with the 
intelligent and instructed ; again to laugh at what was 
ridiculous, and grieve over scenes that awakened 
thoughts of sorrow. It will be profitable also to com- 
pare notes with the judicious and observing, and try 
the value of your own opinions, by those which others 
may have formed on similar subjects. 

Travelling may prove agreeable and beneficial ; but 
it may become injurious also. Persons of talents and 
education, w r ho have travelled much, have invariably 
returned to their native land confirmed in patriotism, 
and, I may add, grateful also for the many advantages 
possessed by this country over all the other nations of 
the world. The secondary class, on the contrary — and 
they are of course the most numerous — think it neces- 
sary, in order to be looked upon as persons of taste, to 
discover something vastly fine in everything that is for- 
eign ; and always return in perfect rapture with conti- 
nental cooking, dancing, fiddling and singing ; extoll- 
ing the languages, literature and manners of foreign 
countries far above those of their native land. 

Some travellers would import not only foreign man- 



108 LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION. 

ners, but foreign languages also, and compose their dis- 
course of an endless mixture of French and Italian 
phrases. This is the height of puerile affectation, for 
there is no modern language equal to our own. All 
English conversation must therefore be carried on in 
pure idiomatic English. And if you are even allowed 
to quote a verse, line, or appropriate saying from a for- 
eign language, it is the utmost extension of latitude 
that can be granted ; and then only under the express 
condition, that all the parties to the conversation are, 
to your knowledge, perfectly familiar with the language 
from which the quotation is taken. There can be no 
exception to this rule ; for all pedantry, all attempts to 
display learning in society, evince only bad taste # 
There are both in Scottish and Irish very expressive 
terms, which cannot exactly be termed alien, and may 
be permitted occasionally, when introduced with skill 
and good taste. 

If foreign phrases are objectionable, slang phrases 
are even worse, for they are mostly vulgar, and mark 
the man who adopts them as unacquainted with the us- 
ages of the polite world ; even as odd and extravagant 
phrases, or the practice of applying words in a manner 
never dreamed of by earthly lexicographers, show the 
• vacant mind, resorting to empty sound in the absence 
of good sense. 

LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION CARDS INVITATIONS, ETC. 

Do not lightly give or promise letters of introduction. 
Always remember that when you give letters of intro- 
duction you lay yourself under an obligation to those 



LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION. IO9 

friends to whom they may be addressed. If they live 
in a great city like New York, Paris or London, you in 
a measure compel them to undergo the penalty of es- 
corting the strangers whom you introduce to some of 
those places of public entertainment in which the cap- 
ital abounds. In any case, you put your friends to the 
expense of inviting them to their table. 

We cannot be too cautious how we tax the time and 
purse of a friend, or weigh too seriously the question of 
mutual advantage in the introduction. Always ask 
vourself whether the person introduced will be an ac- 
ceptable acquaintance to the one to whom you present 
him and whether the pleasure of knowing him will 
compensate for the time or money which it may cost to 
entertain him. If the stranger is in any way unsuitable 
in habits or temperament, you inflict an annoyance 
upon your friend instead of a pleasure. In questions 
of introduction, never oblige one friend to the discom- 
fort of another. 

Letters of introduction are necessary in the country, 
particularly where new comers enter a new abode, and 
wish to enter the best society of the place. In the last 
case the inhabitants should call first, unless the new 
comer brings a letter of introduction, when he is the 
first to call. Instead, however, of going in, he sends 
his letter and card, and waits till this formal visit is re- 
turned. Never deliver a letter of introduction in per- 
son. It places you in the most undignified position 
imaginable, and compels you to wait while it is being 
read, like a footman. There is a^o another reason 
why you should not be yourself the bearer of your in- 
troduction ; i.e., you compel those to whom you are in- 



110 LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION. 

troduced to receive you, whether they choose or not. 
It may be that they are sufficiently ill-bred to take no 
notice of the letter when sent ; and irr such case, if you 
presented yourself with it, they would most probably 
receive you with rudeness. 

It is at all events more polite on your part to give 
them the option, and, perhaps, more pleasant. If the 
receivers of the letter be really well-bred, they will call 
upon you or leave cards the next day, and you should 
return their attentions within the week. 

If, on the other hand, a stranger sends you a letter 
of introduction, and his or her card (for the law of eti- 
quette here holds good for both sexes), you are bound, 
not only to call next day, but to follow up that attention 
by others. If you are in a position to do so, the next 
correct proceeding is to send an invitation to dinner. 
Should this not be within your power, you can prob- 
ably escort the stranger to some exhibition, concert, 
public building, museum, or other place likely to prove 
interesting to a foreigner or provincial visitor. If you 
are but a clerk in a bank, remember that only to go 
over the Bank of England would be interesting to a 
stranger in London. In short, etiquette demands that 
you shall exert yourself to show kindness to the stran- 
ger, if only out of compliment to the friend who intro- 
duced him to you. 

If you invite strangers to dinner, it is a better com- 
pliment to ask some others, than to dine with them 
tete-a-tetL You are thereby affording them an oppor- 
tunity of making other acquaintances, and are assisting 
your friend in still further promoting the purpose for 
which he gave the introduction to yourself. Be careful 



VISITING CARDS. Ill 

at the same time only to ask such persons as you are 
quite sure are the stranger's own social equals. 

A letter of introduction must be carefully worded, 
stating clearly the name of the person introduced, but 
with as few personal remarks as possible. It suffices, 
in most cases, to say that so-and-so is a friend of yours 
whom you trust your other friend will receive with 
attention. In travelling, one cannot have too many 
letters of introduction. It is the custom in foreign 
towns for the new comer to call on the residents 
first, a hint that may prove acceptable to persons 
contemplating a long or short residence abroad. 

A letter of introduction should be given unsealed, 
not only because your friend may wish to know what you 
have said, but also as a guarantee of your own good faith. 
As you should never give such a letter unless you can 
speak highly of the bearer, this rule of etiquette is easy 
to observe. By requesting your friend to fasten the 
envelope before forwarding the letter to its destination, 
you tacitly give permission to inspect its contents. 
Let your note-paper be of the best quality and of the 
proper size. 

The fashion of cards is a variable one. The visiting 
card should be perfectly simple. Glazed cards are now 
wholly out of fashion. All merely honorary or official 
designations should be omitted, except in cards designed 
for purely official visits. Some gentlemen and un- 
married ladies have adopted the custom of omitting 
the Mr. and Miss upon their cards ; as 

James Alfred Jones ; 
or 

Agnes Farmington. 



112 VISITING CARDS. 

And the fashion is a good one. Autographic fac-similes 
for visiting-cards are detestable affectations in any per- 
sons but those remarkable for talent, whose auto- 
graphs, or fac-similes of autographs, would be prized as 
curiosities. A card bearing the autographic signature 
of H. W. Longfellow or May Agnes Fleming would 
possess a certain interest ; whereas the signature of 
John Smith or Mary Jones would be not only valueless, 
but would render the owner ridiculous. Persons in 
mourning must have cards bordered with black. 

Some married people, when visiting together, use a 
single card, engraved thus : — 

Mr. and Mrs. Charles Brown. 

We inform our friends and acquaintance of the 
death of any member of our family by a card. These 
cards should simply state the name, age, birthplace, 
residence, and place of interment. 

Wedding-cards should be as simple and unostenta- 
tious as possible. 



MARRIAGE CEREMONY. 113 

FORM OF MARRIAGE CEREMONY AND RECEPTION NOTE 
— FORM I. 

Mr. and Mrs. Charles B. Foulke 

request your presence 
at the marriage of their daughter 

Mable 

to 

Arnold C. Langdon 

on Thursday afternoon, March fourth, 

at three o'clock, 

at Trinity Church. 

Reception 
from half-past three till five. 

New York. 
25 West 23d St. 



SHORT FORM OF INTRODUCTION. 

Washington, May 1, 1884. 
Dear Sir : 

I have the honor of introducing my friend, Mr. Jas. 
Sutliffe, to your acquaintance, for whom I ask your 
kind attentions. Very truly yours, 

J. B. Taylor. 
Mr. B. Stone, 

Rah way, N. J. 
8 



114 INTRODUCTIONS. 

ANOTHER FORM OF INTRODUCTION. 

Washington, May i, 1884. 
Dear Sir : 

Allow me the pleasure of introducing the bearer, Mr. 
Thos. P. Forbes, of this place : he is my most es- 
teemed friend. With the assurance that any attention 
shown him will be highly appreciated, 

I am yours, etc., 

B. Talbot. 
To Henry Vroomer, 
Otsego, N. Y. 



introducing to a friend and his family. 

Portland, May 1, 18 — 
My Dear Friend Belknap : 

Will you allow me the very great pleasure of intro- 
ducing to you and your agreeable family my friend, 
Mr. Joseph Barrows, a resident of this city, who in- 
tends making his future home in your state. 

Our intimacy has been of the closest for years, and I 
am very anxious that you should know such a desirable 
acquaintance. 

I will not ask your friendly offices for him, as I think 
it quite unnecessary to do so. 

My family join me in sending our best love, and de* 
sire your kindest remembrance, 

Yours as ever, 

J. Staple Howe. 
To T. T. Belknap, 
New York. 



FAMILIAR NOTE. 115 

CONGRATULATION ON A BIRTHDAY. 

New York, May 1, 18 — . 
My Dear Charles : 

As it is natural that I should feel an interest in your 
welfare, I take this occasion to congratulate you upon 
reaching your 15th birthday. Another milestone in the 
journey of life passed, and happily without care or sor- 
row. May the same good fortune attend your future, 
and allow you many similar opportunities of accepting 
the good wishes of your friends. Invoking Heaven's 
blessing upon you, I am sincerely yours, 

Randall Hatch. 



NOTE ACCOMPANYING A WEDDING PRESENT. 

Mr. Jerome Waltham sends his compliments and 
best wishes to Miss Frances Poole, and begs that she 
will accept the accompanying trifle as a souvenir of his 
highest esteem and sincere desires for her future hap- 
piness. 

2 75 Ave., 

Oct. 5, 1883. 



FAMILIAR NOTE — FORM I. 

(Among intimates a more pleasing and genial style 
is required, as follows :) 

Friend Will : 

Oblige me by your presence here at a dinner to be 
given to a few friends on next Thursday afternoon at 
5, sharp. Sincerely yours, 

T. B. Thorp. ' 



Il6 RECEPTIONS. 



CEREMONY AND RECEPTION — FORM 2. 

Ceremony 

St. John f s Church, Varick Street, 

On Wednesday, May 4, at 2 o'clock. 



Tuesdays and Fridays in May, 

At the residence of Mr. E. B. Keeler, 42 ■ Place. 

Albert P. Kirk. Mary Keeler. 



CEREMONY WITH RECEPTION CARD — FORM 3. 

Mr. and Mrs. James Sparkhill 

request the pleasure of your company 

at the marriage ceremony of their daughter 

Caroline 

to 

Trotwood Belcher 

on Monday Evening, March 14, 1884, 
At Eight O'Clock. 

New York. 
1 2 East St 



MARRIAGE ANNOUNCEMENT. 117 

RECEPTION WITH PERSONAL CARDS FORM 4. 

Mr. and Mrs. Constant Bowers 
request the pleasure of Mr. C. P. Wood's company at 
the wedding reception of their daughter, on Wednesday 
evening, May sixth, from 8 until 1 1 o'clock. 

750 St., 

Tuesday, April 28. 
For written invitations this form is the best. 



ceremony with personal cards and cards for 
reception — form 5. 

Mrs. Mary B. Coolidge 
requests the pleasure of your company at the marriage 
of her daughter on Friday afternoon, October tenth, at 
Four O'Clock. 

375 Ave - 

This form requires a reception card only. 



MARRIAGE ANNOUNCEMENT. 

Mr. Thomas W. Johnson, 

Miss Frances L. Maine, 
Married 
Monday, Jan. 16, 1884. 
(Enclose Reception Card if desired.) 
Or the notice is given by transmitting two cards with 
the combined names, residence, and hour of reception 
engraved thereon; and a smaller one with the bride's 
maiden name. 



Il8 GOLDEN WEDDING. 



WOODEN WEDDING. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wm. P. Bancroft 

Request the pleasure of your company 

on Thursday evening, 

May 20, 

at Eight O'Clock. 



New York, 



St. 



(Enclosing a wooden card.) 



GOLDEN WEDDING. 
1825— 1875. g 

Mr. and Mrs. M. B. Macklin 

Will receive their friends at their residence 

on Monday evening, 

October 5, 

From seven until twelve o'clock, 

25 St. 

R. S. V. P. 



INVITATION TO A DRIVE. II9 

INVITATION TO DINNER FORM I. 

Mrs. Henry Perkins requests the pleasure of Mrs. 
Wm. Sloan's company at dinner on Thursday even- 
ing, September 3, at eight o'clock. 

R. S. V. P. 

25 Ave. 

Be very precise as to the date and hour. Each invi- 
tation should contain the name of the individual . for 
whom it is intended. 

Always answer a dinner invitation, whether you in- 
tend being present or not. 



ANNIVERSARY WEDDINGS. 

First, paper wedding ; fifth, wooden wedding ; tenth, 
tin wedding ; fifteenth, crystal or glass wedding ; twen- 
tieth, floral wedding ; twenty-fifth, silver wedding; thir- 
tieth, pearl wedding ; thirty-fifth, china wedding ; for- 
tieth, coral wedding ; forty-fifth, bronze wedding ; fifti- 
eth, golden wedding; seventy-fifth, diamond wedding. 



INVITATION TO A DRIVE. 

Will Miss Hattie Haskins do Mr. Gerald the honor 
of accompanying him in a drive to the Park this after- 
noon ? If so, will Miss Haskins please state what 
hour will be most convenient. 

Wednesday forenoon, Sept. 4. 

The favor of an answer is requested by bearer. 



120 INVITATIONS. 



A GIFT WITH A NOTE. 



Will Miss Osborn please accept the accompanying 
package, as a slight token of the high esteem and re- 
gard of her sincere friend, 

William P. Holliwell. 

New York, Dec. 25. 



children's style. 

Master James Cross requests the pleasure of your 
company on Saturday evening, January 7, from four 
to ten o'clock. 



\ 



INVITATION TO A PICNIC. 

Mr. Jones presents his kind regards to Miss Rowe, 
and solicits the pleasure of her company, to join a 
small party intending to pass the day at Millbrae on 
Wednesday next (7th). 

Carriages will be in waiting at eight o'clock a.m., 
Wednesday. 
July \st. 



INVITATION TO DINNER FORM 2. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wm. P. Jerrardieu request the pleasure 
of Mr. and Mrs. W. T. Poe's company at dinner on 
Thursday evening, Oct. 17, at eight o'clock. 

323 St. 

The favor of an answer is requested. 






CELEBRATION OF A BIRTHDAY. 121 

PARTY INVITATIONS FORM I, GENERAL STYLE. 

Mr. and Mrs. A. B. Compton request the pleasure of 
your company on Tuesday evening, February fifth, 
from eight to twelve o'clock. 

R. S. V. P. 

75 St 

Written notes should contain the name of the party. 
The word " your " in printed ones. 



PRESIDENTIAL RECEPTION — FORM 4. 

The President of the United States requests the 

company of at the Reception in 

honor of His Majesty the King of Brazil, on Wednes- 
day evening, December 5, at nine o'clock. 

Executive Mansion. 

(It is customary to regard an invitation from the 
President as a command, and is never declined except 
for imperative reasons.) 



CELEBRATION OF BIRTHDAY FORM 5. 

Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson request the honor of - 



company to celebrate their son's majority, on 

Friday evening, January 5, 18 — . 

R. S. V. P. 
No. — West 57/// St. 



122 REGRET. 



PARTY INVITATION — FORM 2. 

Mr. and Mrs. Austin request the pleasure of - 



company on Wednesday evening, Nov. 20, at 

eight o'clock. 

Soiree Dansante. 

Answer to be sent to 250 Fourth St. 



TO MEET FRIENDS FORM 4. 

Mr. and Mrs. B. Talbot request the pleasure of 

company Tuesday evening, Sept. 8, from eight 

to eleven o'clock, to meet Monsieur and Madame 
Chappelle. 

No. — Madison Ave. 



ACCEPTING AN INVITATION TO DINNER. 

Mr. Charles Howell has much pleasure in accepting 
Mr. Waltham's kind invitation for Wednesday evening, 
September 15. 

Windsor Hotel, 
Mo?iday, September 6. 



Mr. Howell regrets that, owing to his absence from 
the city, he will be unable to accept Mr. Waltham's 
kind invitation for Wednesday evening, Sept. 15. 

Windsor Hotel, 
Monday, Sept. 6. 



INFORMAL INVITATIONS. 1 23 

CHILDREN'S PARTIES FORM I. 

Master Henry Cammeron requests the pleasure of 

company on Wednesday next, from 

twelve until four o'clock. 

Lexington Ave., 

Oct. 2. 

FORM 2. 



Miss Hattie Hallet requests the pleasure of ■ 



company on Thursday evening, December 

12, from five to ten o'clock. 
Boorman Place. 



Informal invitations for an afternoon or evening en- 
tertainment, or reception, are issued on cards, and are 
becoming popular. 



The pleasure of your 
company is requested at a 

HOP 

07t Wednesday evening, Dec. 10, 18- 
at 9 o'clock. 

MANSION house. 



124 VISITING— MOANING CALLS. 
F&TE CHAMP&TRE FORM 2. 

The honor of company is requested 

at the " Elms " on Monday, August 5, at one o'clock. 
(Signatures of the Committee of Arrangements.) 

R. S. V. P. 

If it rain the Fete will be postponed until Wednes- 
day. 

VISITING MORNING CALLS. 

A morning visit should be paid between the hours of 3 
and 5 p.m. By observing this rule you avoid intrud- 
ing before the luncheon is removed, and leave in suffi- 
cient time for the lady of the house to have an hour or 
two of leisure for her drive and dinner toilette. Never 
pay a visit before noon ; and be careful always to avoid 
the luncheon hours of your friends. Some ladies dine 
with their children at one or half-past one o'clock, and 
are consequently unprepared for the early reception of 
visitors. When you have once ascertained this to be 
the case, be careful never to intrude again at the same 
hour. 

A good memory for these trifles is one of the hall- 
marks of good-breeding. 

A first visit should be returned the next day ; at 
latest within three days. A visit of ceremony — and, 
indeed, a visit of friendship — should always be brief. 
If even the conversation becomes animated, beware of 
letting your call exceed half an hour in length. It is 
better to let your friends regret rather than desire your 
withdrawal. 



VISITING — MORNING CALLS. 125 

When returning visits of ceremony, you may, without 
impoliteness, leave your card at the door, without going 
in. Do not, however, fail to inquire if the family be 
well. Should there be daughters or sisters residing 
with the lady upon whom you call, leave a card for each. 
If there are visitors staying in the house, it is better to 
distinguish the cards intended for them by writing their 
names above your own. A married lady, calling upon 
a married lady, leaves her husband's card for the hus- 
band of her friend. 

Unless when returning thanks for " kind inquiries," 
and announcing your arrival in, or departure from, town, 
it is not considered respectful to send round cards by a 
servant. 

Visits of condolence are paid within the week after the 
event which occasions them. Personal visits of this 
kind are made only by relations and very intimate 
friends, who should be careful to make the conversa- 
tion as little painful as possible. 

In paying visits of congratulation, you should always 
go in, and be hearty in your congratulations. Wedding- 
cards are generally sent round to such people as one 
wishes to keep up acquaintance with, and these will 
call first on the newly-married pair. A visit is also due 
to the parents who have invited you to the wedding- 
breakfast. 

A call should invariably be made within a week upon 
friends or acquaintances at whose house you have 
dined, or from whom you have received an invitation to 
dine. 

A well-bred person will endeavor to receive visitors 
at any time. If you are occupied and cannot afford to 



126 VISITING — MORNING CALLS. 

be interrupted, it is better to instruct your servant to 
say that you are never " at home," except upon certain 
days and at certain hours. If a servant once admits a 
visitor within the hall, receive him at any inconven- 
ience : but take care that the circumstance does not 
occur again. A lady should never keep a visitor wait- 
ing. Some ladies only receive visitors on a stated 
afternoon in each week ; but this is a somewhat preten- 
tious custom, only to be justified by the exigencies of a 
very lofty position. Umbrellas and overcoats should 
always be left in the hall. 

When a gentleman makes a morning call, he should 
never leave his hat or riding-whip in the hall, but 
should take both into the room. To do otherwise 
would be to make himself too much at home. The hat 
should never be laid on a table, pianoforte, or any arti- 
cle of furniture, but must be held properly in the hand. 
If you are compelled to lay it aside, put it on the floor. 

Never take favorite dogs into a drawing-room when 
you make a morning call. Their feet may be dusty, 
or they may bark at strangers, or, being of too friendly 
a disposition, may take the liberty of lying on a lady's 
gown, or jumping upon a velvet sofa or an easy chair. 
Besides, your friend may have a favorite cat already 
established before the fire, and in that case a battle may 
ensue. Many persons, too, have a constitutional antip- 
athy to dogs, and others never allow their own to be 
seen in the reception-rooms. For all or any of these 
reasons, a visitor has no right to inflict upon his friend 
the society of his dog as well as of himself. 

Neither is it well for a mother to take young children 
with her when she pays morning visits ; iheir presence, 



• 



VISITING — MORNING CALLS. 1 27 

umess they are unusually well-trained, can only be pro- 
ductive of anxiety to yourself and your hostess. She, 
while striving to amuse them, or to appear interested in 
them, is secretly anxious for the fate of her album, or 
the ornaments upon her etagere ; while the mother is 
trembling lest her children should say or do something 
objectionable. 

If you do not keep a close carriage, you should never 
pay visits of ceremony in wet weather. To enter a 
drawing-room with mud-bespattered boots and damp 
clothes is a faux pas that no lady or gentleman will 
commit. 

It has of late become customary to offer tea to those 
visitors who make their calls between the hours of four ■ 
and five o'clock. Tea should be sent round, already 
poured out, with sugar basin and cream ewer, on a 
small waiter. Biscuits or bread-and-butter may accom- 
pany it. 

On entering a crowded drawing-room, go at once to 
pay your respects to the lady of the house, and take the 
seat she indicates to you. A gentleman should take 
any vacant chair he may find, without troubling his 
hostess to think for him, 

A gentleman ought to rise upon the entrance of la- 
dies. A lady does not rise. It is not permissible to 
leave one's chair in order to get nearer the fire. As a 
general rule, an introduction is only followed by a bow, 
unless the persons to whom your hostess introduces 
you are her relations or very old friends, and for some 
special reason she desires that you should make their 
acquaintance. In this case you give your hand. A 
man has no right to take a lady's hand till it is of- 



128 VISITING — MORNING CALLS. 

fered. Two ladies shake hands gently and softly. 
A lady gives her hand to a gentleman, but does not 
shake his hand in return. Young ladies only bow to 
unmarried men. It is the privilege of a superior to 
offer or withhold his hand ; an inferior should never be 
the first to extend the hand. Foreigners rarely shake 
hands, and then only with intimate friends. 

If other visitors are announced, and you have already 
remained as long as courtesy requires, wait till they are 
seated ; then take leave of your hostess ; bow politely 
to the newly-arrived guests ; and retire. You will, per- 
haps, be urged to remain ; but having once arisen, it is 
best to go. There is always a certain air of gaucherie 
in resuming your seat, and repeating the ceremony of 
leave-taking. If you have occasion to look at your 
watch during a call, ask permission to do so, and apolo- 
gize for it on the plea of other appointments. 

A gentleman should rise when any lady takes her 
leave, and, if in his own house, should escort her to her 
carriage. 

In receiving morning visits, it is not necessary that a 
lady should lay aside the employment in which she may 
be engaged, particularly if it consist of light or orna- 
mental needle-work. Politeness, however, requires that 
music, drawing, or any absorbing occupation, be at 
once abandoned. A well-bred lady pays equal atten- 
tion to all her visitors, and endeavors to make conver- 
sation as general as possible. It is allowable to pay 
extra attention to any person of distinguished rank, 
extreme age, or world-wide reputation. No one would 
resent a little exclusive politeness to a duke, a nonage- 
narian, or a Victor Hugo. To do homage to the rich, 



VISITING— MORNING CALLS. 1 29 

simply because they are rich, is a piece of snobbism 
which even the most amiable find it difficult to forgive. 

A lady need not advance to receive visitors when 
announced, unless they are persons to whom she is de- 
sirous of testifying particular respect. It is sufficient 
if she rises, moves forward a single step to shake hands 
with them, and remains standing till they are seated* 

When her visitors rise to take leave, she should rise 
also, and remain standing till they have quite left the 
room. It is not necessary to accompany them to the 
drawing-room door, but the bell should be rung in good 
time, that the servant may be ready in the hall to let 
them out. 

A lady can never call upon a gentleman unless pro- 
fessionally or officially. To do so would be, not only a 
breach of good manners, but of strict propriety. 

A lady should dress well, though not too richly, when 
she pays or receives morning visits. If she has a car- 
riage at command, she may dress more elegantly than 
if she were on foot. A gentleman should always be 
well dressed. No one in the present day can afford to 
dress badly. 

Trifling as many of these little rules may at first 
sight appear, they are by no means unimportant. Tri- 
fles in the aggregate become great social forces. 

It has been well said that " attention to the punc- 
tilios of politeness is a proof at once of self-respect, and 
of respect for your friend." Though irksome at first, 
these trifles soon cease to be matters for memory, and 
become things of mere habit. To the thoroughly well- 
bred they are a second nature. Let no one neglect them 
who is desirous of pleasing in society ; and, above all, 
9 



I30 THE BALL. 

let no one deem them unworthy of attention. They 
are precisely the trifles which do most to make social 
intercourse agreeable, and a knowlege of which dis- 
tinguishes the gentleman and gentlewoman from the 
parvenu. 

THE BALL. 

Invitations to a ball should be sent out three weeks 
or a month beforehand, and should be answered imme- 
diately. 

The first requisites for a pleasant ball are good 
rooms, good music, and plenty of good company. A 
very small ball is almost sure to be dull. No one 
should attempt to give this sort of entertainment with- 
out being fully prepared for a considerable expenditure 
of time, money, and patience. Nothing is so unsatis- 
factory as " a carpet dance with the dear girls to play." 
If you wish your friends to enjoy the dancing, you 
must give them a good floor and professional music; 
if you wish them to enjoy the supper, you must let it 
be well served and in great abundance ; lastly, if you 
wish them to enjoy the company, you must provide 
your visitors with suitable partners. 

The preparation for a ball begins with the reception 
rooms, which must be made as light and airy as possi- 
ble. Nothing produces a happier effect than an abund- 
ance of shrubs, plants, and flowers used freely on the 
stairs, in the recesses, landing-places, etc. The fire- 
places, should be screened by flowers in summer, and 
be provided with guards in winter or spring. It is 
easy, by the help of screens and evergreens, to arrange 



THE BALL. 131 

a small gallery for the musicians, so that they shall be 
heard and not seen. 

A refreshment-room should, if possible, be on the 
same floor as the ball-room, in order that the ladies 
may be spared all risk from draughty staircases. A 
lobby for the ladies' cloak-room, and a hat-room for 
the gentlemen, are both indispensable. 

As the number of guests at a dinner party is regu- 
lated by the size of the table, so should the number of 
invitations to a ball be limited by the proportions of 
the ball-room. A prudent hostess will, however, al- 
ways invite more guests than she really desires to en- 
tertain, in the certainty that there will be some desert- 
ers when the appointed evening comes round ; but she 
will at the same time remember that to overcrowd her 
room is to spoil the pleasure of those who love dancing, 
and that a party of this kind, when too numerously at- 
tended, is as great a failure as one at which too few 
are present. 

A room which is nearly square, yet a little longer 
than it is broad, will be found the* most favorable for 
a ball. It admits of two quadrille parties, or two 
round dances, at the same time. In a perfectly square 
room this arrangement is not so practicable or pleasant. 
A -verylong and narrow room is obviously of the worst 
shape for dancing, and is fit only for quadrilles and 
country dances. 

The top of the ball-room is the part nearest the or- 
chestra. In a private room, the top is where it would 
be if the room were a dining-room. It is generally at 
the farthest point from the door. Dancers should 
be careful to ascertain the top of the room before tak- 



I32 THE BALL. 

ing their places, as the top couples always lead the 
dances. 

A good floor is of the utmost importance in a ball- 
room. In a private house, nothing can be better than 
a smooth, well-stretched holland, with the carpet be- 
neath. 

Abundance of light and free ventilation are indis- 
pensable to the spirits and comfort of the dancers. 

Good music is as necessary to the prosperity of a 
ball as good wine to the excellence of a dinner. 
No hostess should tax her friends for this part of 
the entertainment. It is the most injudicious econ- 
omy imaginable. Ladies who would prefer to dance 
are tied to the pianoforte ; and as few amateurs have 
been trained in the art of playing dance music with 
that strict attention to time and accent which is abso- 
lutely necessary to the comfort of the dancers, a total 
and general discontent is sure to result. To play 
dance music thoroughly well is a branch of the art 
which requires considerable practice. It is as differ- 
ent from every other kind of playing as whale fishing 
is from fly fishing. Those who give private balls will 
do well ever to bear this in mind, and to provide 
skilled musicians for the evening. For a small party, 
a piano and cornopean make a very pleasant combina- 
tion. Unless where several instruments are engaged, 
we do not recommend the introduction of the violin. 
Although in some respects the finest of all solo instru- 
ments, it is apt to sound thin and shrill when em- 
ployed on mere inexpressive dance tunes, and played 
by a mere dance player. 

The room provided for the accommodation of the 



THE BALL. I 33 

ladies should have several looking-glasses ; attendants 
to assist the fair visitors in the arrangement of their 
hair and dresses ; and rows of hooks for the cloaks 
and shawls. It is well to affix tickets to the cloaks, 
giving a duplicate to each lady. Needles and thread 
should be always at hand to repair any little accident 
incurred in dancing. The refreshment-room should be 
kept amply supplied with coffee, lemonade, ices, wine, 
and biscuits during the evening. Where this cannot 
be arranged, the refreshments should be handed round 
between the dances. 

The question of supper is one which so entirely de- 
pends on the means of those who give a ball or even- 
ing party, that very little can be said upon it in a trea- 
tise of this description. Where money is no object, it 
is of course always preferable to have the whole sup- 
per, "with all appliances and means to boot," sent in 
from some first-rate house. It spares all trouble, 
whether to the entertainers or their servants, and re- 
lieves the hostess of every anxiety. Where circum- 
stances render such a course imprudent, we would only 
observe that a home-provided supper, however simple, 
should be good of its kind, and abundant in quantity. 
Dancers are generally hungry people, and feel them- 
selves much aggrieved if the supply of sandwiches 
proves unequal to the demand. 

Perhaps the very best plan is the French one, of 
having supper arranged on long buffets with servants 
behind to attend to all comers. No one sits down to 
ball suppers, or if seats are arranged by the wall for 
the ladies, the gentlemen stand. In the hot season of 
the year, iced things should be had in plenty. Cold 



134 THE BALL. 

chickens, game, etc., should be carved in readiness, 
and trifle, tipsy cake, and mayonnaise are indispens- 
able. 

Great incon Q .nience is often experienced through 
the difficulty of procuring cabs at the close of an even- 
ing party. Unless more men servants than one are 
kept, it is better to engage a policeman with a lantern 
to attend on the pavement during the evening, and to 
give notice in the course of the day at a neighboring cab- 
stand, so as to secure plenty of vehicles at the time 
when they are likely to be required. Visitors will do 
well to engage a brougham for the evening, as cleaner 
and more respectable than the ordinary cab. Carpet 
should be laid down on the door-steps ; and if the 
weather prove wet, a temporary covering from the gate 
to the door should be hired. 

No gentleman should accept an invitation to a ball 
if he does not dance. When ladies are present who 
would be pleased to receive an invitation, those gentle- 
men who hold themselves aloof are guilty, not only of a 
negative, but a positive, act of neglect. 

To attempt to dance without a knowledge of dancing 
is not only to make one's self ridiculous, but one's 
partner also. No lady or gentleman has the right to 
place a partner in this absurd position. 

On entering the ball-room, the visitor should at once 
seek the lady of the house, and pay her respects to her. 
Having done this, she may exchange salutations with 
such friends and acquaintances as may be in the room. 

No lady should accept an invitation to dance from a 
gentleman to whom she has not been introduced. In 
case any gentleman should commit the error of so in- 



THE BALL. 135 

viting her, she should not excuse herself on the plea of 
a previous engagement, or of fatigue, as to do so would 
imply that she did not herself attach due importance to 
the necessary ceremony of introduction. Her best re- 
ply would be to the effect that she would have much 
pleasure in accepting his invitation, if he would procure 
an introduction to her. This observation may be taken 
as applying only to public balls. No lady should ac- 
cept refreshments from a stranger at a public ball ; for 
these she must rely on her father, brother, or old friend. 
At a private party the host and hostess are sufficient 
guarantees for the respectability of their guests ; and 
although a gentleman would show a singular want of 
knowledge of the laws of society in acting as we have 
supposed, the lady who should reply to him as if he were 
merely an impertinent stranger in a public assembly- 
room would be implying an affront to her entertainers. 
The mere fact of being assembled together under the 
roof of a mutual friend is in itself a kind of general 
introduction of the guests to each other. 

An introduction given for the mere purpose of ena- 
bling a lady and gentleman to go through a dance to- 
gether does not constitute an acquaintanceship. The 
lady is at liberty to pass the gentleman in the parjc the 
next day without recognition. 

It is not necessary that a lady should be acquainted 
with the steps, in order to walk gracefully or easily 
through a quadrille. An easy carriage and a knowl- 
edge of \h& figures are all that is necessary. 

No walking about the rooms after a dance is permitted 
in good society. The young lady is instantly handed 
back so the care of her chaperone. 



136 THE BALL. 

We now pass to that part of ball-room etiquette 
which chiefly concerns gentlemen. 

A gentleman cannot ask a lady to dance without be- 
ing first introduced to her by some member of the host- 
ess's family. 

Never enter a ball-room in other than full evening 
dress, and white or light kid gloves. 

A gentleman cannot be too careful not to injure a 
lady's dress. The young men of the present day are 
inconceivably thoughtless in this respect, and often 
seem to think the mischief which they do scarcely 
worth an apology. Cavalry officers should never 
wear spurs in a ball-room. 

Bear in mind that all casino habits are to be scrupu- 
lously avoided in a private ball-room. It is an affront 
to a highly-bred lady to hold her hand behind you or on 
your hip, when dancing a rou»d dance. We have 
seen even aristocratic young men of the " fast" genus 
commit these unpardonable offences against taste and 
decorum. 

Never forget a ball-room engagement. It is the 
greatest neglect and slight that a gentleman can offer 
to a lady. 

At the beginning and end of a quadrille the gentle- 
man bows to his partner, and bows again on handing 
her to a seat. 

After dancing, the gentleman may offer to conduct 
the lady to the refreshment-room. 

Engagements for one dance should not be made 
while the present dance is yet in progress. 

If a lady happens to forget a previous engagement 
and stand up with another partner, the gentleman 



THE BALL. 1 37 

whom she has thus slighted is bound to believe that she 
has acted from mere inadvertence, and should by no 
means suffer his pride to master his good temper. To 
cause a disagreeable scene in a private ball-room is to 
affront your host and hostess, and to make yourself ab- 
surd. In a public room it is no less reprehensible. 

Always remember that good breeding and good 
temper (or the appearance of good temper) are in- 
separably connected. 

Young gentlemen are earnestly advised not to limit 
their conversation to remarks on the weather and the 
heat of the room. It is, to a certain extent, incumbent 
on them to do something more than dance when they 
invite a lady to join a quadrille. If it be only upon 
the news of the day, a gentleman should be able to of- 
fer at least three or four observations to his partner in 
the course of a long half-hour. 

Never be seen without gloves in a ball-room, though 
it were only for a few moments. Those who dance much, 
and are particularly soignS in matters relating to the 
toilette, take a second pair of gloves to replace the 
first when soiled. 

A thoughtful hostess will never introduce a bad dancer 
to a good one, because she has no right to punish one 
friend in order to oblige another. 
. It is not customary for married persons to dance to- 
gether in society. 

A gentleman conducts his last partner to supper ; 
waits upon her till she has had as much refreshment as 
she wishes, and then takes her back to the ball-room or 
her chaperone. 

However much pleasure he may take in a lady's 



I38 DINNER PARTIES. 

society, he must not ask her to dance too frequently. 
Engaged persons would do well to bear this in mind. 

Withdraw from a ball-room as quietly as possible, so 
that your departure may not be observed by others, and 
so cause the party to break up. If you meet the lady 
of the house on your way out, take your leave in such a 
manner that the other guests may not observe it ; but 
by no means seek her out for that purpose. 

No person who has not a good ear for time and tune 
need hope to dance well. 

At the conclusion of a dance, the gentleman bows 
to his partner, and conducts her to her chaperone. 
Where a room is set apart for refreshments, he offers 
to conduct her thither. 

Lastly, a gentleman should not go to a ball unless he 
has previously made up his mind to be agreeable : that 
is, to dance with the plainest as well as the most 
beautiful ; to take down an elderly chaperone to supper, 
instead of her lovely charge, with a good grace ;- to en- 
ter into the spirit of the dance, instead of hanging about 
the doorway ; to abstain from immoderate eating, drink- 
ing, or talking ; to submit to trifling annoyances with 
cheerfulness ; in fact, to forget himself, and contribute 
as much as possible to the amusement of others. 

DINGER PARTIES. 

" Les animaux se repaissent ; l'homme mange ; l'homme d'esprit 
seul sait manger." — Brillat-Savarin. 

It is impossible to over-estimate the importance of 
dinners. "Providence," says Dr. Prout, "has gifted 
man with reason : to his reason, therefore, is left the 



DINNER PARTIES. 1 39 

choice of his food and drink, and not to instinct, as 
among the lower animals. It thus becomes his duty to 
apply his reason to the regulation of his diet ; to shun 
excess in quantity, and what is obnoxious in quality ; to 
adhere, in short, to the simple and the natural, among 
which the bounty of his Maker has afforded him an 
ample selection ; and beyond which, if he deviates, 
sooner or later he will pay the penalty." 

There is no denying the fact that the wise as well as 
the foolish must perforce be a slave to his cook and his 
stomach. Napoleon is said to have lost the battles of 
Borodino and Leipsic because he had dined in too 
great a hurry. What a warning ! History could 
doubtless supply hundreds of instances in which a 
badly-used digestion has wreaked no less important 
revenges. It should be the first duty of every house- 
holder to obtain the best possible dinners for her family 
her purse can afford. Let no false sentiment lead her to 
consider indifference to food as an heroic virtue, or 
he due appreciation of it as a despicable gourmandise. 
Man is what he eats, and woman is the caterer. Let 
her perform her duties well, and she will reap an ample 
reward. 

"The life of man," says Dr. Lankester, "is like a 
fire. Just as the fire must have fuel in order that it 
may burn, so we must have food in order that we may 
live : and the analogy is in many respects quite cor- 
rect ; for we find that man really produces in his body 
a certain amount of heat, just as the fire does ; and the 
result of the combustion of the materials of his food is 
the same as the result of burning fuel in a fire. Man 
exists, in fact, in consequence of the physical and chem- 



140 DINNER PARTIES. 

ical changes that go on in his body as the result of tak- 
ing food." Further on he says : " Cooks in the kitchen, 
and ladies who superintend cooks and order dinners 
for large families, never think of asking whether food 
contains the right proportions of those ingredients 
which secure health ; yet, without these, babies get 
rickets, young ladies acquire crooked spines, fathers 
get gouty, mothers have palpitations ; and they do not 
think of ascribing these things to the food which has 
deprived them of the proper constituents of their food." 

It is, however, obviously impossible that we should, 
in a work like the present, enter upon the scientific 
side of the food question. We have only to do with 
dinners and dinner-givers. The etiquette of the din- 
ner-table should be mastered by all w ( ho aspire to the 
entrfe of good society. Ease, savoir-faire, and good 
breeding are nowhere more indispensable than at the 
dinner-table, and the absence of them is nowhere more 
apparent. How to eat soup and what to do with a 
cherry-stone are weighty considerations when taken as 
the index of social status ; and it is not too much to 
say, that a young woman who elected to take claret 
with her fish or eat peas with her knife would justly 
risk the punishment of being banished from good so- 
ciety. As this subject is one of the most important of 
which we have to treat, we may be pardoned for intro- 
ducing an appropriate anecdote related by the French 
poet Delille. 

Delille and Marmontel were dining together in the 
month of April, 1786, and the conversation happened to 
turn upon dinner-table customs. Marmontel observed 
how many little things a well-bred man was obliged to 



DINNER PARTIES. 141 

know, if he would avoid being ridiculous at the table of 
his friends. 

" They are, indeed, innumerable," said Delille ; 
" and the most annoying fact of all is, that not all the 
wit and good sense in the world can help one to divine 
them untaught. A little while ago, for instance, the 
Abbe' Cosson, who is Professor of Literature at the 
College Mazarin, was describing tome a grand dinner 
to which he had been invited at Versailles, and to which 
he had sat down in the company of peers, princes, and 
marshals of France. 

" ' I'll wager, now,' said I, ' that you committed a 
hundred blunders in the etiquette of the table.' 

" ' How so ? ' replied the Abbe, somewhat nettled. 
'What blunders could I make ? It seems to me that I 
did precisely as others did.' 

" ' And I, on the contrary, would stake my life that 
you did nothing as others did. But let us begin at the 
beginning, and see which is right. In the first place, 
there was your table-napkin — what did you do with 
that when you sat down at table ? ' 

* ' What did I do with my table-napkin ? Why, I 
did like the rest of the guests : I shook it out of the 
folds, spread it before me, and fastened one corner to 
my button-hole.' 

" ' Very well, mon cher, you were the only person who 
did so. No one shakes, spreads, and fastens a table 
napkin in that manner. You should have only laid it 
across your knees. What soup had you ? ' 

" ' Turtle.' 

" ' And how did you eat it ? ' 



142 DINNER PARTIES. 

" ' Like every one else, I suppose. I took my spoon 
in one hand and my fork in the other.' 

" Your fork ! Good heavens ! None but a savage 
eats soup with a fork. But go on. What did you take 
next ? ' 

" • A boiled egg. } 

" ' Good ; and what did you do with the shell ? * 

" ' Not eat it, certainly. I left it, of course, in the 
egg-cup.' 

" ' Without breaking it through with your spoon ? ' 

"*' Without breaking it.' 

" i Then, my dear fellow, permit me to tell you that 
no one eats an egg without breaking the shell and 
leaving the spoon standing in it. And after your 
egg?' 

" ' I asked for some bouille'? 

" ' For bouille 7 It is a term that no one uses. You 
should have asked for beef — never for bouille\ Well, 
and after the bouille'? ' 

" ' I asked the Abbe de Badenvillais for some fowl.' 

" ' Wretched man ! Fowl, indeed ! You should have 
asked for chicken or capon. The word " fowl " is 
never heard out of the kitchen. But all this applies 
only to what you ate ; tell me something of what you 
drank, and how you asked for it ? ' 

" ' I asked for champagne and bordeaux from those 
who had the bottles before them.' 

" - Know then, my good friend, that only a waiter, 
who has no time or breath to spare, asks for cham- 
pagne or bordeaux. A gentleman asks for vin de 
Champagne and vin de Bordeaux. And now inform 
me how you ate your bread ? ' 



DINNER PARTIES. 143 

" * Undoubtedly like all the rest of the world. I cut 
it up into small square pieces with my knife.' 

" * Then let me tell you that no one cuts bread ; you 
should always break it. Let us go on to the coffee. 
How did you drink yours ? ' 

" ' Pshaw ! at least I could make no mistake in that. 
It was boiling hot ; so I poured it, a little at a time, in 
the saucer, and drank it as it cooled/ 

" ' Eh bien ! then you assuredly acted as no other 
gentleman in the room. Nothing can be more vulgar 
than to pour tea or coffee into a saucer. You should 
have waited till it cooled, and then have drunk it from 
the cup. And now you see, my dear cousin, that so far 
from doing precisely as the others did, you acted in no 
one respect according to the laws prescribed by eti- 
quette.' " 

An invitation to dine should be replied to immedi- 
ately, and unequivocally accepted or declined. Once 
accepted, nothing but an event of the last importance 
should cause you to fail in your engagement. To be 
exactly punctual on these occasions is the only polite- 
ness. If you are too early, you are in the way \ if too 
late, you spoil the dinner, annoy the hostess, and are 
hated by the guests. Some authorities are even of 
opinion that in the question of a dinner party " never" 
is better than " late ;" and one author has gone so far 
as to say, " If you do not reach the house till dinner is 
served, you had better retire and send an apology, and 
not interrupt the harmony of the courses by awkward 
excuses and cold acceptance." 

When the party is assembled, the mistress of the 
house will point out to each gentleman the lady whom 



144 DINNER PARTIES. 

he is to conduct to table. The guests then go down 
according to precedence of rank. This order of prece- 
dence must be arranged by the host or hostess, as the 
guests are probably unacquainted, and cannot know 
each other's social iank. If the society is of a distin- 
guished kind, she will do well to consult Debrett or 
Burke, before arranging her visitors. 

The following rules should be remembered : — 

Persons of title take precedence according to rank 
and date of creation. Diplomatic foreigners of the 
first rank go first ; any foreign ambassador, as the rep- 
resentative of a crowned head, takes. precedence even 
of a prince of the blood royal. Precedence by courtesy 
is usually given to a bishop, who ranks with an earl. 
The same courtesy is extended to all the dignified clergy ; 
wives of the clergy take precedence of the wives of 
barristers • and the wives of esquires take precedence 
of clergymen's and barristers' wives ; whilst the latter, 
by right, take precedence of the untitled wives of mili- 
tary and naval men. Physicians rank next to barris- 
ters. 

When rank is not in question, other claims to prece- 
dence must be considered. The lady who is the great- 
est stranger should be taken down by the master of 
the house, and the gentleman who is the greatest 
stranger should conduct the hostess. Married ladies 
take precedence of single ladies, elder ladies of 
younger ones, and so on. A young bride takes prece- 
dence of all other ladies. 

When dinner is announced, the host offers his arm 
to the lady of most distinction, invites the rest to follow 
by a few words or a bow, and leads the way ; the visit- 



DINNER PARTIES. 145 

ors follow in the order that the host and hostess have 
arranged. The lady of the house remains, however, 
till the last, that she may see her guests go down in 
their prescribed order ; but the plan is not a convenient 
one. It would be much better that the hostess should 
be in her place as the guests enter the dining-room, in 
order that she may indicate their seats to them as they 
enter, and not find them all crowded together in uncer- 
tainty when she arrives. 

The number of guests at a dinner party depends on 
the size of the room and tjie size of the table. The 
rule laid down by Brillat-Savarin, that the numbers at 
a dinner party should not be less than the Graces nor 
more than the Muses, is a good one. Even numbers, 
however, are always the most convenient, and the num- 
ber of thirteen should be avoided out of respect to any 
possible superstition on the part of the guests. The 
number of ladies and gentlemen should be equal. 

Great tact must be exercised in the distribution of 
your guests. If you have a wit, or a good talker, 
among your visitors, it is well to place him near the 
centre of the table, where he can be heard and talked 
to by all. It is obviously a bad plan to place two such 
persons together ; they extinguish each other. Nor 
should two gentlemen of the same profession be placed 
close together, as they are likely to fall into exclusive 
conversation, and amuse no one but themselves. 

A judicious host (or hostess) will consider the poli- 
tics, religious opinions, and tastes of his friends, thus' 
avoiding many social quicksands, and making the party 
a vehicle of delightful social intercourse. 



146 DINNER PARTIES. 

Very young ladies or gentlemen should not be asked 
to dinner partiesf " Young people," says the clever 
author of "Miss Majoribanks," "are the ruin of 
society." Young people certainly are the ruin of din- 
ner parties. 

The fashion of dinners is wholly unlike what it was 
fifty or even thirty years ago. Dishes are now never 
placed on the table at a dinner of ceremony, and rarely 
even at small friendly dinners. 

The dinner a la Russe is a great improvement on the 
old fashion ; it is more elegant and more agreeable to 
see only crystal, plate, flowers, fruit, and epergnes be- 
fore you ; and few people will resort to the old mode 
who have once begun the new. The dinner a la Russe 
is the poetry of dining. 

The shape of the table is an important point. Cir- 
cular and oval dining tables are beginning to super- 
sede the old-fashioned parallelogram. An expanding 
circular table of this form has been recently invented, 
the enlargement of the circle being effected by the 
insertion of wedge-shaped leaves radiating from a 
common centre. The horse-shoe table is adapted for 
state banquets only. The oval table offers most ad- 
vantages for conversation ; the host and hostess sit in 
the middle of each side, opposite to each other. The 
French fashion of the host and hostess sitting side by 
side in the middle of one side of the table is not a bad 
one. 

The dining-room must be carpeted, even in the 
middle of summer, to deaden the noise of servants' 
feet. The chairs should have slanting backs, and each 
lady should be provided with a footstool. The tem- 



DINNER PARTIES. 147 

perature of the dining-room must never be too low. 
Thirteen to sixteen degrees of Reaumur are fixed for 
it by the author of the " Physiologie du Goilt ; " but it is 
easy to decide on this matter for oneself. In winter 
the fire should be lighted some hours before dinner, 
and the room being thoroughly warmed it may then 
burn low. A blazing fire is always objectionable. 

The appointments of the table may be as sumptuous 
on the one hand, or as delicately elegant on the other, 
as suits the tastes and means of the family. Persons 
of rank and family may at slight additional cost have 
this dinner-service and table-linen made expressly for 
them, with their arms or crest painted on the one and 
woven in the others. This is far more recherchi ftmn. 
any mere design. The crest is also engraven on the 
silver; but it is perhaps pushing heraldic pretension too 
far to engrave it also on the wine and finger glasses. 

We now imitate the Romans and cover our tables 
•with flowers — a happy innovation. Of flowers, the 
richest and choicest, one can hardly have too many. 
A small glass vase containing a (l button-hole " bou- 
quet placed at every cover is very dainty ; the guests 
remove the bouquets on leaving the table. Glass flower 
vases are perhaps preferable to silver ones. 

Light is really needful for digestion, and should be 
supplied in profusion. Lamps are out of place on a 
dining table. Gas is simply intolerable. Lockhart 
describes in his life of Scott how the host introduced 
gas into the dining-room at Abbotsford. " In sitting 
down to table in autumn," he said, "no one observed 
that in each of three chandeliers there lurked a tiny 
head of red light. Dinner passed off and the sun went 



I48 DINNER PARTIES. 

down, and suddenly, at the turning of a screw, the 
room was rilled with a gush of splendor worthy of the 
palace of Aladdin ; but, as in the case of Aladdin, the old 
lamp would have been better in the upshot. Jewellery 
sparkled, but cheeks and lips look cold and wan in this 
fierce illumination ; and the eye was wearied, and the 
brow ached, if the sitting was at all protracted." 

We must, therefore, have recourse to epergnes and 
wax candles. There should be more lights than guests. 
The candles should be of real wax, and of great size, 
not less than two to the pound. Too much light is 
almost as objectionable as too little, since among your 
guests may be persons whose eyes are weak, and to 
whom it is positive torture to face a brilliant light. 
The best plan is to have abundance of wax lights on the 
chimney-piece and walls, and not too many on the table. 

Plenty of attendance is indispensable. One servant 
to every two guests, or at least, one to every three are 
necessary. They should be well trained, silent, observ- 
ant, scrupulously dressed, and free from gaucherie. A 
good servant is never awkward. His boots never creak, 
he never breathes hard, has a cold, is obliged to cough, 
treads on a lady's dress, or breaks a dish. If only two 
servants are in attendance, one should begin with the 
guest on his master's right, ending with the lady of the 
house ; the other with the guest on his mistress' right, 
ending with the master. If they do not wear gloves, 
their hands must be scrupulously clean. 

The clergyman of highest rank is asked to say grace ; 
but if the master of the house is himself in the Church, 
he is his own family chaplain, and pronounces the grace 
himself. 



DINNER PARTIES. 149 

Written bills of fare should be laid to every two 
guests'. 

The most elegant novelties for the appointment of 
the dinner table should be obtained. Among the latest 
of these we may mention silver fish-knives, semicircular 
salad plates, and glasses of any new shape lately intro- 
duced. 

In the case of small unceremonious dinners, where 
the dishes are brought to table, the gentleman sitting 
nearest the lady of the house should offer to carve for 
her. Every gentleman should therefore know how to 
carve well. The soup comes to table first, and then the 
fish. It is best to help both and send round to each 
guest without asking, as they can refuse if they choose. 

But the dinner a la Russe being now so universal, 
we must more especially confine our observations to 
that form. Granted, then, that no dishes appear on the 
table, the rules of dining are few and easy. Both host 
and guest are relieved from every kind of responsibility. 
Dish after dish comes round, as if by magic ; and 
nothing remains but to eat and be happy. 

To eat and talk well at the same time is possible ; 
but the old-fashioned way of " seeing your dinner before 
you," and having to carve, as well as to talk and eat, 
involved a triple duty only within the compass of very 
few. We only remember one person who could carve 
a hare, turkey, or pheasant, as the case might be, enjoy 
his dinner, and enliven a very dull company by anec- 
dotes all the time. But he was a man of genius. It is 
not well to talk too much at a dinner party. One must 
observe a happy medium between dulness and brill- 
iancy, remembering that a dinner is not a conversa- 



150 DINNER PARTIES. 

zione. In talking at dinner, or indeed at any time, 
gesticulation is objectionable. Nothing can well be 
more awkward than to overturn a wine-glass, or upset 
the sauce upon the dress of your nearest neighbor. 
Talking with the mouth full is an unpardonable sole- 
cism in good manners. 

All small preferences for different wines or dishes 
should be kept in subordination. The duty of satisfy- 
ing the tastes of the guests belongs to the mistress of 
the house ; and if she has failed to do so, the failure 
must not be exposed. Dishes and wines should not be 
mentioned unless on the table. 

The minor etiquette of the dinner table must be at 
all times remembered. As soon as you are seated, re- 
move your gloves, place your table-napkin across your 
knees, only partially unfolding it, and place your roll on 
the left side of your plate. As soon as you are helped, 
begin to eat : or if the viands are too hot, take up your 
knife and fork and appear to begin. To wait for others 
is not only old-fashioned but ill-bred. Never offer to 
pass on the plate to-which you have been helped. The 
lady of the house who sends your plate to you is the 
best judge of the precedence at her own table. In eat- 
ing soup, remember always to take it from the side of 
the spoon and to make no sound in doing so. Soup 
and fish should never be partaken of a second time. 
Whenever there is a servant to help you, never help 
yourself ; when he is near, catch his eye and ask for 
what you want. Eating and drinking should always be 
done noiselessly. To drink a whole glassful at once, 
or drain a glass to the last drop, is inexpressibly vulgar. 

Knife, fork, and spoon may be abused. It is need- 



DINNER PARTIES. 151 

less, perhaps, to hint that the knife must never be car- 
ried to the mouth. Cheese must be eaten with a fork, 
as also peas and most vegetables. Only puddings of a 
very soft kind, and liquids, require a spoon. 

Bread is broken, never cut. 

Mustard, salt, etc., should be put at the side of the 
plate, and one vegetable should never be heaped on the 
top of the other. Always remember that a wineglass is 
to be held by the stem and not the bowl, and that the 
plate must not be tilted on any occasion. In eating, 
one should not bend the head voraciously over the 
plate, extend the elbows, or rattle the knife and fork ; 
but transact all the business of the table quietly and 
gently. 

Anything like greediness or indecision are ill-bred, 
The choicest pieces are ignored ; and you must not 
take up one piece and lay it down, in favor of another, or 
hesitate whether you will partake of the dish at all. It is 
gauche m the extreme not to know one's own mind about 
trifles. 

Silver fish-knives are found at the best dinner-tables ; 
but where there are none, a piece of crust should be 
taken in the left hand, and the fork in the right. 

In eating asparagus, it is well to observe what others 
do, and act accordingly. The best plan is to break off 
the heads with the fork, and thus convey them to the 
mouth. In France every one takes up the asparagus 
with his fingers. In eating stone-fruit, such as cher- 
ries, damsons, etc., the same diversity of fashion pre- 
vails. Some put the stones out of the mouth into the 
spoon, and so convey them to the plate. Others cover 
the lips with the hand, drop the stones unseen into the 



152 DINNER PARTIES. 

palm, and so deposit them on the side of the plate. 
Very dainty feeders press out the stone with the fork, 
in the first instance, and thus get rid of the difficulty. 
This is the safest way for ladies. 

Fruit is eaten with a silver knife and fork. A very 
expert fruit eater will so pare an orange as to lose none 
of the juice ; but anythbg must be sacrificed rather 
than one's good manners. 

At dinner parties ladies seldom eat cheese, or drink 
liqueurs, or take wine at dessert. Finger glasses con- 
taining water slightly warmed and perfumed are placed 
to each person at dessert. In these you dip your fingers, 
wiping them afterwards on your table-napkin. If the 
finger-glass and d'oyley are placed on your dessert-plate, 
you should immediately remove the d'oyley to the left 
hand and place the finger-glass upon it. The French, 
supposed to be the politest of European nations, and 
the leading authority in all matters relating to the table, 
are guilty of what seems to us the disgusting and unpar- 
donable innovation of introducing into the fing*er-bowl 
a small glass cup filled with tepid lemon-water, with 
which each guest rinses his mouth ! 

The servants retire after handing round the dessert. 

It is a foreign custom, and an excellent one, to serve 
coffee in the dining-room before the ladies retire ; it 
puts an end to the prolonged wine-drinking, now so 
universally condemned by well-bred persons. When 
the ladies retire, the gentlemen rise, and the gentleman 
nearest the door holds it open for them to pass through. 

Taking wine with people is now wholly out of fashion. 
Toasts have met with the same fate. To remain long 
in the dining-room after the ladies have left is a poor 



DINNER PARTIES. 153 

compliment to both the hostess and her fair visitors. 
Still worse is it to rejoin them with a flushed face and 
impaired powers of thought. A refined gentleman is 
always temperate. 

The " art of dining " can hardly be taught in a book. 
Few perhaps will go to the length of a certain French- 
man, M. Henrion de Pensey, who said : — " I regard the 
discovery of a dish as a far more interesting event than 
the discovery of a star; for we have already stars 
enough, but we can never have too many dishes ; and I 
shall not regard the sciences as sufficiently honored or 
adequately represented amongst us, until I see a cook 
in the first class of the Institute."' At the same time, 
no judicious and candid person will deny the impor- 
tance of a science which improves health, prolongs 
existence, and promotes geniality. That gastronomy 
deserves to be ranked among the sciences, who will 
deny, since its very etymology, ycurH/p, stomach, v6juog 7 
law, implies the rationale of digestion ? And on our 
digestion depends not only the life material, but the life 
intellectual. The history of gastronomy, however, is 
the history of manners ; and in its literature we find 
views of society of all kinds, and anecdotes of all the 
most celebrated men and women whose names have 
come down to us. At the dinner table have met, from 
the earliest periods, the wit, the courtier, the beauty, 
and the poet. At the dinner table, as Brillat-Savarin 
says, " love, friendship, politics, intrigue, power, parti- 
sanship, ambition, and fame," have all come into play : 
and elsewhere he adds, "The pleasures of the table 
bring neither enchantments, "nor ecstasies, nor trans- 
ports ; but they gain in duration what they lose in inten- 



154 DINNER PARTIES. 

sity, and are, above all, distinguished by the particular 
quality of inclining us favorably towards all other pleas- 
ures, or at least consoling us for the loss of them." 
Nothing is more unreasonable than to confuse the per- 
son who "likes to dine," as Dr. Johnson expresses it, 
with the regular gourmand. Why may we be allowed 
to criticise books, music, pictures, and yet be stigma- 
tized as gourmands if we discuss that meal upon which 
our health, our temper, and the preservation of our fac- 
ulties depends ? Away then with sham deprecations 
and Spartan indifference, and let us all promote " the 
greatest happiness of the greatest number," by promot- 
ing the doctrines of those benefactors of their kind — 
Soyer and Francatelli. 

The literature of the table supplies us with much in- 
struction and amusement. We are amazed at the great 
bounty of nature and the skill of those cooks who have 
turned that bounty to account. They have taught us 
to appreciate the turkey fattened on the olives of Mount 
Hymettus, the minestra del riso of Milan, the char of 
the Lake of Geneva, the red trout of Andernach, 
the crawfish of the Rhine, the white truffles of 
Piedmont, the wild boar of South Germany, die 
becafico of the Pontine Marshes, the whitebait of the 
Thames, the Pulborough eel, and the canvas-backed 
duck of America. They have invented dishes and 
combinations to tempt the daintiest appetite, and have 
labored from morning till night to procure the satis- 
faction and enjoyment of others. Wonderful is the 
biography of these men of science. It is related of 
the Prince of Soubise (immortalized by the sauce 
named after him) that he one day announced to his 



DINNER PARTIES. 155 

cook (a man of science, and gifted with princely 
notions of expenditure) that he was going to give a 
supper next day, and demanded a menu and an estimate. 
The estimate was presented, and the first item on which 
the prince cast his eyes stood thus : — " Fifty hams." 
" What ! " said he : " you must be out of your senses ! 
Are you going to feast my whole regiment ? " " No, 
monseigneur," replied the cook : " only one ham will 
appear on the table ; the rest are not the less necessary 
for my garniture, my blonds, my " " You are plun- 
dering me !" interrupted the prince, "and this article 
shall not pass." " Oh ! my lord," replied the indig- 
nant artist, "you do not understand our resources; 
give the word, and those fifty hams which confound 
you, I will put them all into a glass bottle no higher 
than my thumb." The prince, of course, gave way. 

Every one knows the story of poor Vatel, the maitre 
d? hotel of Conde, as given by Madame de Sevigne\ 

" I wrote to you yesterday," says Madame de Sevigne, 
" that Vatel had killed himself ; I here give you the 
affair in detail. The king arrived on the evening of 
Thursday : the collation was served in a room hung 
with jonquils ; all was as could be wished. At supper 
there were some tables where the roast was wanting, in 
consequence of the arrival of more guests than had 
been expected. This affected Vatel. He said several 
times, { I am dishonored ; this is a disgrace that I 
cannot endure.' He said to Gourville, ' My head is 
dizzy, I have not slept for twelve nights ;; assist me in 
giving orders.' Gourville mentioned the matter to the 
prince : the prince went to the chamber of Vatel and 
said to him, *■ Vatel, all is going on well ; nothing 



156 DINNER PARTIES. 

could equal the supper of the king.' He replied, 
' Monseigneur, your goodness overpowers me. I know 
that the roast was wanting at two tables.' ' Nothing of 
the sort,' said the prince; 'do not distress yourself; 
all is going on well.' . . . He rose at four next morning, 
determined to attend to everything in person. He 
found everybody asleep. He met one of the inferior 
purveyors, who brought only two packages of sea-fish ; 
he asked, ' Is that all ?■ ' ' Yes, sir.' The man was 
not aware that Vatel had sent to all the sea-ports. 
The other purveyors did not arrive ; his brain began to 
turn ; he believed there would be no more fish. He 
sought Gourville and said to him, ' I shall never survive 
this disgrace.' He went up to his room, placed his 
sword against the door, and stabbed himself to the 
heart. . . . The duke wept." 

Cooks can no more bear indifference than disgrace. 
The Duke of Wellington once requested a connoisseur 
to recommend him a good chef de cuisine. Felix, with 
whom the late Lord Seafield was reluctantly about to 
part on economic grounds, was recommended and en- 
gaged. Some months afterwards this connoisseur was 
dining with Lord Seafield, and before the first course 
was over said, " So I find you have got the duke's cook 
to dress your dinner?" "I have got Felix," replied 
Lord Seafield, " but he is no longer the duke's cook. 
The poor fellow came to me with tears in his eyes, and 
begged to be taken back again at reduced wages, or 
at no wages at all, for he was determined to remain no 
longer at Apsley House. ■ Has the duke been find- 
ing fault ? ' I asked. ■ Oh no ! my lord,' replied 
Felix ; ' I would stay if he had. He is the kindest of 



DINNER PARTIES. 157 

masters ; but I serve him a dinner that would make 
Ude or Francatelli burst with envy, and he says noth- 
ing. I go out and leave him to dine on a dinner badly 
dressed by the cook-maid, and still he says nothing. 
Dat hurt my feelings, my lord.' " 

The taste for French cookery is fortunately becom- 
ing more general ; and Soyer, by means of his soup- 
kitchen, has done more good in his generation than 
many a vaunted philanthropist. There is a French 
proverb that says, " La soupt > fait k soldat ; " and there 
is no doubt that if our working classes would introduce 
soup into their cuisine, the public physique would be 
immeasurably improved. 

There is no accounting for tastes in the matter of 
dishes. Dr. Johnson preferred " a boiled leg of pork, 
with the meat hanging in rags about the bone, plum 
sauce with the pork, and a veal pie." Lord Byron's 
favorite dish was boiled eggs and bacon. The late 
Lord Dudley could not dine completely without an 
apple-pie ; and when dining at Prince Esterhazy's, was 
terribly put out on finding that his favorite delicacy 
was wanting. " God bless me ! " he kept murmuring to 
himself, " no apple-pie ! " 

Mr. Pitt's great recreation, after the fatigue of public 
and parliamentary business, was to steal into the coun- 
try, enter a clean cottage, and there eat bread and 
cheese like any ploughman. 

Givers of dinners should lose no time in making 
themselves acquainted with all that has been written by 
the great masters of gastronomy. The following golden 
rules of Brillat-Savarin should be committed to mem- 
ory : — 



158 DINNER PARTIES. 

" Let not the number of the guests exceed twelve, so 
that the conversation may be general. Let them be so 
selected that their Occupations shall be varied, their 
tastes similar, their points of contact so numerous that 
to introduce them shall scarcely be necessary. 

" Let the dining-room be superbly lighted, the cloth 
of exquisite fineness and gloss, the temperature of the 
room from 13 to 16 Reaumur (6o° to 68° Fahren- 
heit). 

" Let the men be cultivated, without pretensions ; and 
the ladies charming, without coquetry. 

" Let the dishes be exceedingly choice, but not too 
numerous ; and every wine first-rate of its kind. 

" Let the order of dishes be from the substantial to 
the light, and of wines from the simplest to those of 
richest bouquet. 

" Let the business of eating be very slow, the dinner 
being the last act of the day's drama; and let the 
guests and host consider themselves as so many travel- 
lers journeying leisurely towards the same destination. 

" Let the coffee be hot and the liqueur be chosen by 
the host. 

" Let the drawing-room be large enough for a game 
of cards, if any of the guests cannot do without it, and 
yet have space enough remaining for after-dinner con- 
versation. 

" Let the guests be retained by the attractions of the 
party, and animated with the hope of some evening 
meeting again under the same pleasant auspices. 

" Let not the tea be too strong ; let the toast be 
buttered in the most scientific manner ; let the punch 
be prepared to perfection. 



DINNER PARTIES. 1 59 

" Let no one depart before eleven o'clock and no one 
be in bed later than twelve. 

"If any one has been present at a party fulfilling 
these conditions, he may boast of having been present at 
his own apotheosis." 

A dinner need not be costly to be attractive. 

Walker, in his celebrated " Original," observes : 
" Common soup made at home, fish of little cost, any 
joints, the cheapest vegetables, some happy and unex- 
pected introduction (as a finely-dressed crab, or a pud- 
ding) — provided everything is good in quality, and the 
dishes are well dressed, and served hot, and in succes- 
sion, with their adjuncts — will ensure a quantity of en- 
joyment which no one need be afraid to offer." 

Observe, however, these three little words, with their 
adjuncts. Herein lies the gist of the sentence ; here 
speaks the wisdom of the practised diner. On the 
prompt and quick serving of these same "adjuncts" 
half the enjoyment of dinner depends. How often an 
excellent dinner is spoilt by the slow arrival, or non-ar- 
rival, of those necessary condiments without which 
neither meat nor vegetables have their proper flavors. 
The best beef is spoilt if it cools while we are waiting 
for the mustard ; veal is almost uneatable if the lemon 
has been forgotten, or the broiled bacon omitted ; as- 
paragus, though served in December, would cease to be 
a delicacy if sent up without melted butter and toast. 
The mistress of a house should never leave these small 
details to the memory or judgment of her cook ; but 
should order the accustomed " adjuncts " with each 
dish. To know these things is not difficult, and not to 
know them is to shock the prejudices or disappoint the 



\6o DINNER PARTIES 

appetites of those who have been accustomed to the 
received routine of cookery* We have known an ex- 
cellent and accomplished lady so ignorant of these bye- 
laws of cookery as to order carrots with roast beef and 
roast pork, and omit them with boiled. 

Small stands of pepper, mustard, and salt should be 
placed to every two guests at a dinner party, that no 
one may be kept waiting for the means of seasoning, 
according to his taste, the food which has been placed 
before him. To permit one's servants to serve the 
whole table with any one dish before they proceed to go 
round with the sauce or vegetables is simply to spoil 
the enjoyment of any guest at the table. Servants 
should make the round of the table in pairs, the sauce 
or vegetables being offered to each diner immediately 
after the meat. 

A wealthy man will study to give the best dinners 
that money and taste can provide. But money, let us 
ever remember, is not taste ; and though we may grudge 
no expense in order to please our guests, too great a 
display of wealth and profusion is bourgeois to the last 
degree. To provide everything that is out of season 
and nothing that is in season, savors of pretension. 
The common sense of a good dinner is to have things 
when they are early and really at their best. A very 
choice and not over sumptuous dinner is ever the most 
elegant. Rare delicacies from a distance are recherche, 
such as canvas-backed ducks from America, ortolans, 
etc., etc. 

Wines should always be of the choicest. Certain 
wines are taken with certain dishes, by old-established 
custom — as sherry, or sauterne, with soup and fish ; hock 



DINNER PARTIES. l6l 

and claret with roast meat ; punch with turtle ; cham- 
pagne with whitebait ; port with venison ; port, or bur- 
gundy, with game ; sparkling wines between the roast 
and the confectionery ; madeira with sweets ; port with 
cheese ; and for dessert, port, tokay, madeira, sherry, and 
claret. Red wines should never be iced, even in sum- 
mer. Claret and burgundy should always be slightly 
warmed. As a rule, very choice wines should not be 
iced at all. 

A decanter of wine or water may be readily cooled 
by folding a wet cloth about it and placing it in a cur- 
rent of air. 

An admirable kind of wine jug has lately been in- 
vented with an ice receptacle in the side, by means of 
which the wine is even more effectually iced than with 
an ice pail. For champagne cup, claret cup, or effer- 
vescing wines, this kind of jug is most desirable. 

Instead of cooling their wines in the ice pail, some 
hosts have of late years introduced clear ice upon the 
table, broken up in small lumps, to be put inside the 
glasses. This is an innovation that cannot be too 
strictly reprehended or too soon abolished. Melting 
ice can but weaken the quality and flavor of the wine. 
Those who desire to drink wine and water can ask 
for iced water if they choose, but it savors too much 
of economy on the part of a host to insinuate the ice 
inside the glasses of his guests, when the wine could be 
more effectually iced outside the bottle. Great care 
is necessary in decanting wine, so as not to shake or 
cork it. Rare French wines should be brought to 
table in baskets, as decanting injures the flavor. 

Each wine at the best tables has its own distinctive 



1 62 DINNER PARTIES. 

glass. Very broad and shallow glasses are used for 
sparkling wines ; large goblet-shaped glasses for bur- 
gundy and claret ; ordinary wine glasses for sherry and 
madeira ; green glasses for hock ; and somewhat large 
bell-shaped glasses for port. 

While on the subject of wines, it may be observed, en 
passant, that it is considered very vulgar to say " port 
wine " or " sherry wine." In England no well-bred 
person speaks oi either as anything but "port" or 
" sherry." No weli-bred Frenchman, on the other hand, 
would speak of wines except as " vin de Champagne," 
"vinde Grave," " vin de Bordeaux." This is one of 
the many instances in which the good manners of one 
country are the vulgarity of another. 

As there are, and probably ever will be, a certain 
number of persons who cling to old customs, who still 
challenge their friends to take wine, and persist in hav- 
ing their dinners served in the old-fashioned manner, we 
subjoin a few observations which would not be applica- 
ble to dinners and dinner customs where the table is 
dressed a la Russe. 

The gentlemen who support the lady of the house 
should offer to relieve her of the duties of hostess. 
Many ladies are well pieased thus to delegate the dif- 
ficulties of carving, and all gentlemen who accept invi- 
tations to dinner should be prepared to render such as- 
sistance when called upon. To offer to carve a dish, 
and then perform the office unskilfully, is an unpar- 
donable gaiccherie. Every gentleman should carve, and 
carve well. 

The soup should be placed on the table first. Some old- 
fashioned persons still place soup and fish together, but 



DINNER PARTIES. 163 

" it is a custom more honored in the breach than the 
observance." Stiil more old-fashioned, and in still 
worse taste, is it to ask your guests if they will take 
" soup or fish." They are as much separate courses as 
the fish and the meat, and all experienced diners take 
both. In any case, it is inhospitable to appear to force 
a choice upon a visitor, when that visitor, in all proba- 
bility, will prefer to take his soup first and his fish after- 
wards. All well-ordered dinners begin with soup, wheth- 
er in summer or winter. The lady of the house should 
help it, and send it round without asking each individual 
in turn — it is as much an understood thing as the bread 
beside each plate • and those who do not choose it are 
always at liberty to leave it untasted. 

If the servants do not go round with wine, the gentle- 
men should help themselves to sherry or sauterne with 
the soup. 

As a general rule, it is better not to ask your guests if 
they will partake of the dishes, but to send the plates 
round, and let them accept or decline them as they 
please. At very large dinners it is sometimes customary 
to distribute little lists of the order of the dishes at in- 
tervals along the table. It must be confessed that this 
gives somewhat the air of a dinner at an hotel ; but it 
has the advantage of enabling the visitors to select their 
fare, and, as " forewarned is forearmed," to keep a cor- 
ner, as the children say, for their favorite dishes. 

In helping soup, fish, or any other dish, remember 
that to overfill a plate is as bad as to supply it too 
scantily. 

Always help fish with a fish-slice, and tart and 



I64 DINNER PARTIES. 

puddings with a spoon, or, if necessary, a spoon and 
fork. 

Asparagus must be helped with the asparagus-tongs. 

In helping sauce, always pour it on the side of the 
plate. 

We have already said that the habit of challenging 
one's friends to wine, and of drinking toasts, is entirely 
disused in the best society ; but, for those who at fam- 
ily parties still indulge in an old-fashioned toast or sen- 
timent, we subjoin a few hints on the bygone etiquette 
of the " wine-taking " school. 

If you are asked to take wine, it is polite to select 
the same as that which your interlocutor is drinking. 
If you invite a lady to take wine, you should ask her 
which she will prefer, and then take the same yourself. 
Should you, however, for any reason prefer some other 
vintage, you can take it by courteously requesting her 
permission. 

Unless you are a total abstainer, it is extremely un- 
civil to decline taking wine if you are invited to do so. 
In accepting, you have only to pour a little fresh wine 
into your glass, look at the person who invites you, 
bow slightly, and take a sip from your glass. 

It is particularly ill-bred to empty your glass on these 
occasions. 

A few more general rules, and we have done. , 

If you are asked to prepare fruit for a lady, be care- 
ful to do so by means of the silver knife and fork only, 
and never to touch it with your fingers. 

It is wise never to partake of any dish without know- 
ing of what ingredients it is composed. You can al- 
ways ask the servant who hands it to you, and you 



DINNER PARTIES. 1 65 

thereby avoid all danger of having to commit the im- 
politeness of leaving it, and showing that you do not 
approve of it. 

Be careful never to taste soups or puddings till you 
are sure they are sufficiently cool ; as, by disregard- 
ing this caution, you may be compelled to swallow 
what is dangerously hot, or be driven to the unpardon- 
able alternative of returning it to your plate. 

Peas are eaten with the fork. 

Servants should not wait at table in white gloves, 
but with a white damask napkin in the hand, the end 
of which should be wrapped round the thumb. 

Glass wine-coolers, half filled with water, should be 
placed to each cover, and the sherry glass placed 
therein — inverted. 

The lady of the house should never send away her 
plate, or appear to have done eating, till all her guests 
have finished. 

If you should unfortunately overturn or break any- 
thing, do not apologize for it. You can show your re- 
gret in your face, but it is not well-bred to put it into 
words. 

To abstain from taking the last piece on the dish, or 
the last glass of wine in the decanter, only because it 
is the last, is highly ill-bred. It implies a fear on your 
part that the vacancy cannot be supplied, and almost 
conveys an affront to your host. 

To those ladies who have houses and servants at 
command we have one or two remarks to offer. Every 
housekeeper should be acquainted with the routine of 
a dinner and the etiquette of a dinner table. No lady 
should be utterly dependent on the taste and judgment 



1 66 DINNER PARTIES. 

of her cook. Though she need not know how to dress 
a dish, she should be able to judge of it when served. 
The mistress of a house, in short, should be to her cook 
what a publisher is to his authors — that is to say, com- 
petent to form a judgment upon their works, though 
himself incapable of writing even a magazine article. 

If you wish to give a good dinner, and do not know 
in what manner to set about it, you will do wisely to 
order it from Birch, Kiihn, or any other first-rate res- 
taurateur. By these means you ensure the best cook- 
ery and a faultless carte. 

Bear in mind that it is your duty to entertain your 
friends in the best manner that your means permit. 
This is the least you can do to recompense them for 
the expenditure of time and money which they incur in 
accepting your invitation. " It was a very good din- 
ner," said Dr. Johnson, one day, " but not a dinner to 
invite any one to." 

" To invite a friend to dinner," says Brillat-Savarin, 
" is to become responsible for his happiness so long as 
he is under your roof." Again, " He who receives 
friends at his table, without having bestowed his per- 
sonal supervision upon the repast placed before them, 
is unworthy to have friends." 

Never reprove your servants before guests. If a 
dish is not placed precisely where you would have 
wished it to stand, or the order of a course is reversed, 
let the error pass unnoticed by yourself, and you may 
depend that it will remain unnoticed by others. 

To ladies who have the happiness of being mothers 
we would say, Never let your children make their ap- 
pearance at dessert when you entertain friends at din- 



DINNER PARTIES. 167 

ner; children are out of place on these occasions. 
Your guests only tolerate them through politeness ; 
their presence interrupts the genial flow of after-dinner 
conversation ; and you may rely upon it that, with the 
exception of yourself and your husband, there is not a 
person at table who does not wish them in the nursery. 

With respect to the general arrangements of a din- 
ner party, we may quote this dictum of Paulus ^Emilius, 
who was the most successful general and best enter- 
tainer of his time. He said that it required the same 
sort of spirit to manage a banquet as a battle, with this 
difference, — that the one should be made as pleasant 
to friends, and the other as formidable to enemies, as 
possible. 

The duties of hostess at a dinner party are not oner- 
ous ; but they demand tact and good breeding, grace 
of bearing, and self-possession in no ordinary degree. 
She does not often carve ; she has no active duties to 
perform ; but she must negleet nothing, forget nothing, 
put all her guests at their ease, and pay every possible 
attention to the requirements of each and all around 
her. No accident must ruffle her temper. No disap- 
pointment must embarrass her. She must see her old 
china broken without a sigh, and her best glass shat- 
tered with a smile. 

The duties of a host are more difficult. Hear what 
a modern writer has to say on this important subject : — 

" To perform faultlessly the honors of the table is 
one of the most difficult things in society. It might, 
indeed, be asserted without much fear of contradiction, 
that no man has as yet ever reached exact propriety in 
his office as host, or has hit the mean between exerting 



1 68 DINNER PARTIES. 

himself too much and too little. His great business is 
to put every one entirely at his ease, to gratify all his 
desires, and make him, in a word, absolutely contented 
with men and things. To accomplish this, he must have 
the genius of tact to perceive, and the genius of finesse 
to execute ; ease and frankness of manner ; a knowl- 
edge of the world that nothing can surprise ; a calm- 
ness of temper that nothing can disturb ; and a kindness 
of disposition that can never be exhausted. When here- 
ceives others, he must be content to forget himself ; he 
must relinquish all desire to shine, and even all at- 
tempts to please his guests by conversation, and rather 
do all in his power to let them please one another. 
He behaves to them without agitation, without affecta- 
tion ; he pays attention without an air of protection ; 
he encourages the timid, draws out the silent, and di- 
rects conversation without sustaining it himself. He 
who does not do all this is wanting in his duty as host , 
he who does is more than mortal!" 

In conclusion, we have a few words to offer on the 
subject of menus in general. 

For an ordinary dinner the following me'nu is suffi- 
cient • — One kind of soup, one kind of fish, two entries, 
a roast, a boil, two sweets, game, cheese, ice, dessert, 
and coffee. 

For a more ceremonious dinner — two soups (one 
white, the other clear), two kinds of fish, and four en- 
tries are necessary. 

Bread should be cut for table not less than an inch 
thick, but rolls are preferable. 

Pea-soup, roast pork, and boiled beef are never seen 
upon good tables. 



DINNER PARTIES. 169 

Of all animal food, venison is the most digestible. 

Entrees are those dishes which are served in the first 
course, after the fish. 

Entremets are those dishes which are served in the 
second course, after the roast. 

The Earl of Dudley is reported to have said, that " a 
good soup, a small turbot, a neck of venison, ducklings 
with green peas, a chicken with asparagus, and apricot 
tart, is a dinner fit for an emperor — when he cannot 
get a better." 

A turkey will be much improved by roasting it cov- 
ered with bacon and paper. A Christmas turkey 
should be hung from a fortnight to three weeks. A 
guinea-fowl and pheasant are advantageously dressed 
together. 

The Almanack des Gourmands says, " A delicious 
sauce will cause you to eat an elephant." 

Currie powder consists of turmeric, black pepper, 
coriander seeds, cayenne, fenu-greek, cardamoms, 
cumin, ginger, allspice, and cloves. The ingredients 
may be bought of most seedsmen, and with a common 
pestle and mortar currie powder may be prepared at a 
cost of 2d. per ounce. 

The only secret of dressing vegetables, so as to pre- 
serve their fresh green color, is an open saucepan, plenty 
of water, a proper quantity of salt, and fast boiling. 

Boiled beetroot, white haricot beans, and fried pars- 
nips are excellent accompaniments to roast mutton. 

The Spanish proverb says, '' Four persons are wanted 
to make a good salad : a spendthrift for oil, a miser for 
vinegar, a counsellor for salt, and a madman to stir it 
all up." 



170 DINNER PARTIES. 

Cheese taken at the close of the dinner assists diges- 
tion. 

Nothing is more generally wholesome than good 
table-beer. 

Pears may be kept by tipping their stalks with seal- 
ing wax. 

Wines should vary with the season. Light wines are 
best in summer ; in winter generous wines are prefera- 
ble. 

The custom of taking coffee after a very late dinner 
is bad, since its stimulant properties exert a power 
destructive to sleep. 

Mr. Walker, in his " Original," says, " One of the 
greatest luxuries, to my mind, in dining, is to be able 
to command plenty of good vegetables, well served. 
Excellent potatoes, smoking hot, accompanied by melted 
butter of the first quality, would alone stamp merit on 
any dinner ; but they are as rare on state occasions as 
if they were of the cost of pearls." 



Menus of four choice dinners, adapted to each season 
of the year : — 

I. 

JANUARY. (For ten persons.) 
Consomme soup, with quenelles. 
Turbot, with Dutch sauce. 

Two Removes. 

Braized fillet of veal, larded a la Chateaubriand. 
Roast turkey, with puree of mushrooms. 



DINNER PARTIES. 17I 

For Entries. 
Oyster Kromeskys a la Russe. 
Pork cutlets, sauce Robert. 
Partridges a la Prince of Wales. 
Supreme of fowls a la Macedonia 

Second Course. 
Pintail. Snipes. 

One Remove. 
Fonda of Parmesan cheese. 

Four Entremets. 
Salad a la Rachel. 
Vol-au-vent of preserved greengages. 
Plombieres cream iced. 
Braized celery with brown sauce. 

II. 

APRIL. (For eight persons.) 

Cray-fish soup. 

Spey trout, parsley sauce. 

Two Removes. 
Boiled fowls, oyster sauce. 
Glazed tongue a la jardiniere 

Two Entries. 
Lamb cutlets, asparagus, peas. 
Boudins of rabbits a la Reine. 

Second Course. 
Lobster salad. Green goose. 



172 DINNER PARTIES. 

Four Entremets. 

Orange fritters. 
Tapioca pudding. 
Wine jelly. 
Potatoes a la Lyonnaise. 

III. 

JUNE. (For twelve persons.) 

Puree of green peas, soup. 
Stewed sturgeon, matelotte sauce. 
Fillets of mackerel a la maitre d'hotel. 

Two Removes. 

Rost forequarter of lamb. 

Spring chickens a la Montmorency 

Four Entries. 

Fillets of ducklings, with green peas. 
Mutton cutlets a la Wyndham. 
Blanquette of chicken with cucumbers 
Timbale of macaroni a la Milanaise. 

Second Course. 
Pigeons. Leveret. 

Two Removes. 

Flemish gauffres. 
Iced souffle'. 



DINNER PARTIES. 1 73 

Six Entremets. 

French beans stewed. 

Mayonnaise of chicken. 

Peas a la Francaise. 

Peach jelly with noyau. 

Love's wells glace with chocolate. 

Flave of apricots and rice. 

IV. 

OCTOBER. (For eight persons.) 

Potage a la Julienne. 

Baked haddock, Italian sauce. 

Two Removes. 

Braized neck of mutton, en chevreuil. 
Roast pheasant a la Chipolata. 

Two Entrees. 

Pork cutlets, tomato sauce. 
Curried rabbit and rice. • 

Second Course. 
Roast blackcock. Oyster omelette. 

Four Entremets. 

Potatoes a la Duchesse. 
Blanc mange. 
Apple tartlets. 
Semolina pudding. 



174 DINNER PARTIES. 

To conclude, we give the menu of a first-rate Christ- 
mas dinner : — 

CHRISTMAS DINNER. 
Turtle soup. 
Turbot a la Vatel. 
Fillets of sole, a la Tartare. 

Three Removes. 
Roast turkey, Perigueux sauce. 
Braized ham a la jardiniere. 
Spiced round of beef. 

Four Entries. 
Marrow patties. 

Salmi of pheasants a la flnanciere. 
Sweetbreads a la Saint Cloud. 
Mutton cutlets a la Vicomtesse. 

Second Course. 
Woodcocks. Grouse. 

Mince pies. 
Plum pudding. 

Six Entremets. 
Broccoli with Parmesan cheese. 
Italian creams. 
Croute a TAnanas. 
Salad a la Rachel. 
Meringues k la Parisienne. 
Punch jelly. 



ENGAGEMENT AND MARRIAGE. 1 75 

ENGAGEMENT AND MARRIAGE ETIQUETTE. 

Courtship is one of those crises in the course of 
life when to act by rule is impossible, and where feeling 
and good sense will prove one's best and often one's only 
counsellors. No wise man will weary a lady with too 
much of his presence, or risk being regarded as a bore. 
No well-bred woman will receive a man's attentions — 
however acceptable — too eagerly ; nor will she carry 
reserve so far as to be altogether discouraging. It is 
quite possible for a lady to let it be seen that such 
and such zprtiendant is not disagreeable to her without 
actually encouraging him. It is equally possible for a 
man to show attention, and even assiduity, up to a 
certain point, without becoming a lover. No man likes 
to be refused, and no man of tact will risk a refusal. 
Unless the lady is false, or a downright coquette, a 
man ought always to be able to judge whether he will 
be favorably heard, before he ventures upon his 
offer. 

With regard to the manner of the offer, it is impos- 
sible to offer advice ; all must depend on circumstances. 
Is the lover nervous or not nervous ? Has he a per- 
suasive tongue ? Does he speak well under trying 
circumstances ? Has he a good manner ? an agreeable 
person ? If he possesses these qualifications, he will do 
well to make his offer in person. If, on the contrary, 
he is bashful, or labors under any defect of speech, or 
is likely to break down, or is not prepared to take a 
refusal gracefully, or in any way mistrusts his own tact 
and presence of mind, he had far better entrust his 
cause to his pen. 



176 ENGAGEMENT AND MARRIAGE. 

The man who makes an offer of marriage must always 
remember that he is a petitioner. Unequal marriages 
are most unadvisable ; but be the lady ever so inferior 
in birth, in fortune, or in position, the lover must still 
bear in mind that he is asking for her liberty, her 
obedience, her life-companionship, herself. He must 
ask with humility and receive with gratitude. 

We suppose him accepted. His conduct as a fiance 
must be tender, assiduous, unobtrusive. He must 
evince the utmost respect towards every member of the 
lady's family. He must by no means act as if he 
considered himself already a member of that family, or 
venture upon being in any way unduly familiar. He 
must for the present content himself with the position 
of a devoted friend only ; testifying interest in all that 
concerns the welfare of the family to which he hopes to 
unite himself, and losing no opportunity of rendering 
them any service that may lie in his power. 

All airs of mastership, all foolish display of jealousy, 
should be avoided. Lovers' quarrels are as earnestly 
to be dreaded and deprecated as the quarrels of hus- 
bands and wives, or brothers and sisters. Quarrels 
cannot but impair mutual respect and diminish love. 
The lady, on the other hand, must not be exacting or 
capricious ; must not flirt with others ; must not be 
too demonstrative ; and must never find fault without a 
cause. Both should remember that they are in the 
first stage of what is to be a lifelong friendship, and 
should manifest the utmost degree of mutual candor, 
confidence and sympathy. 

It must surely be unnecessary to hint, that no ap- 
proach towards familiarity must ever be indulged in. 



ENGAGEMENT AND MARRIAGE. 1 77 

The most perfect reserve in courtship, even in cases of 
the most ardent attachment, is indispensable to the 
happiness of the married life to come. All public 
displays of devotion should be avoided. They tend to 
lessen mutual respect, and make the actors ridiculous 
in the eyes of others. It is quite possible for a man 
to show every conceivable attention to the lady to 
whom he is engaged, and yet to avoid committing the 
slightest offence against delicacy or good taste. 

Ladies should remember that nothing takes the 
bloom so completely off a man's admiration, as untidi- 
ness in the woman he loves. A lady's dress should be at 
all times exquisitely clean and neat. He, on his side, 
should be chivalrously conformable to her tastes, giv- 
ing up smoking or any other habits to which she may 
object: and, above all things, paying no undue at- 
tentions to other women. 

The gentleman presents the lady with a ring as soon 
as they are engaged. If her parents permit her to ac- 
cept many presents, the lover will not fail to surround 
her with tokens of his devotion : if, however, this habit 
is not encouraged, he can spend as much money as he 
pleases in offering her flowers of the rarest and cost- 
liest kinds. These she can always accept and he may 
always offer. A sensible man will not give more 
presents than he can justly afford. 

It is the lady's privilege to fix the wedding day. 

The marriage settlement is an important point. No 
parent or guardian should allow his child or ward to* 
marry without having a part of her fortune secured 
upon herself. The young lady may be over-generous, 
but her advisers will do well to act upon their own 



1 78 ENGAGEMENT AND MARRIAGE. 

judgment in this matter. It is quite as advantageous 
to the husband as to herself, since, in case of unlooked- 
for loss or misfortune, there is a sure provision for his 
wife and children. Professional men, clerks, com- 
mercial travellers, and all that numerous class of men 
who are dependent upon their health for the mainte- 
nance of their family, are in duty bound to insure their 
lives for the benefit of their survivors, 

To return to the marriage settlement. An allow- 
ance for the lady's dress and pocket money should 
always be made, and so administered that the wife will 
not have to ask for it in season and out of season, but 
receive it as promptly as if it were a dividend. 

Special licenses are no longer de rigueur. The cere- 
mony is generally performed by ordinary licence, 
either in the parish or some fashionable church. In 
country places, persons of the highest rank are often 
married by banns. 

The trousseau should be in accordance with the 
means of the bride. It is preposterous for ladies of 
middle-class rank and limited means to provide them- 
selves with showy, useless outfit ; and in all cases a 
bridal trousseau should consist less of dresses, bonnets, 
and things of ephemeral fashion, than of linen, laces, 
French, Indian, or Cashmere shawls, jewellery, and the 
like. 

The bridesmaids may be from two, to twelve in 
number. The bride's sisters, and the bridegroom's 
nearest female relations, should be bridesmaids if pos- 
sible. A very young lady should have bridesmaids of 
her own age, but a bride who is no longer in her girl- 
hood should chose bridesmaids who will not make her 



ENGAGEMENT AND MARRIAGE. 1 79 

look old and ugly by comparison. The bridesmaids 
may wear veils, and should always be dressed in white 
trimmed with delicate colors. Except at very large wed- 
ding breakfasts, it is customary to invite only relatives 
and very intimate friends to the dejeuner. In the 
former case, invitations on printed cards are sent out 
by the bride's parents or guardians. 

The French bridal costume is much simpler and 
prettier than the English, and we should be glad to see 
it imitated. It consists of a dress of white tulle over 
white silk, a long veil of white tulle reaching to the feet, 
and a wreath of maiden-blush roses interspersed with 
orange blossoms. In England rich lace is worn over 
white satin or silk, and the veil is generally of costli- 
est lace. 

Widows and ladies of middle age are married in 
bonnets. The bridegroom wears elegant morning 
dress, light trousers, a dark blue frockcoat, and a 
colored neck-tie. Nothing black is admissible at a 
wedding. 

The order of going to church is as follows : — The 
bridesmaids and members of the bride's family set off 
first ; the bride goes last with her father and mother, 
or with her mother alone, and the relative who is to 
represent her father if he be dead or absent. The 
bridegroom, bridesmaids, and " best man," ought to be 
waiting in the church. The father of the bride gives 
her his arm and leads her to the altar, where the clerk 
arranges the rest of the party. 

The " best man" should distribute the different fees 
to the clergyman, the clerk, and the pew-opener, before 
the arrival of the bride. The bride stands to the left 



180 ENGAGEMENT AND MARRIAGE. 

of the bridegroom, and takes the glove off her left hand, 
whilst he takes the glove off his right hand. The bride 
gives her glove to her bridesmaids to hold. Perfect 
self-control should be exhibited by all parties during 
the ceremony : nothing is more undignified than exhi- 
bitions of feeling in public. People who have no self- 
control had better remain at home. 

After the ceremony comes the signing of the register. 
There must be no kissing in the vestry, as in former 
days. The bride quits the church first with the bride- 
groom, and they drive away together in his carriage ; 
the rest follow in their own carriages. 

The bridegroom should be liberal in his fees, if he 
can afford to be so. A rich man may give any sum to 
the officiating clergyman, frcm one hundred dollars to five 
hundred; the usual fee is fifteen dollars. For people of 
moderate means, from twenty-five to fifty dollars is ample. 

The breakfast should be supplied by a first-rate con- 
fectioner, and the table should be as beautiful as 
flowers, plate, glass, and china can make it. The ordi- 
nary menu of a wedding breakfast is as follows : — Tea, 
coffee, wines, cold game and poultry, lobster salads, 
chicken and fish a la Mayonnaise, hams, tongues, pot- 
ted meats, game pies, savory jellies, Italian creams, 
ices, and cold sweets of every description. 

Before the healths are drunk, the wedding cake 
should be cut and handed round. 

The order of the healths is as follows : — 

The oldest friend of the family proposes the health of 
the bride and bridegroom. 

The. bridegroom returns thanks for himself and wife, 
and proposes the health of the bridesmaids. 



ENGAGEMENT AND MARRIAGE. l8l 

The " best man " returns thanks for the bridesmaids. 

The same old friend, or another, proposes the health 
of the bride's parents. 

The father of the bride returns thanks, and proposes 
the health of the bridegroom's parents. 

The bridegroom's father returns thanks. 

Other toasts are optional : the health of the officiat- 
ing clergyman, however, if he be present, should not be 
forgotten. 

When the breakfast comes to an end, the bride re- 
tires, and the company repair to the drawing-room. At 
a wedding breakfast gentlemen do not remain behind to 
drink wine. The bride departs on her wedding trip in 
elegant morning dress. 

Fees to servants must depend upon circumstances. 
From a rich bridegroom large sums are expected, but 
from persons of moderate means extravagant fees 
would be out of place. The bridegroom usually pre- 
sents each bridesmaid with some elegant trinket, which 
should be the best of its kind. No distinction should 
be made in these gifts. The bridegroom usually pre- 
sents the bride with some useful and costly article. 

Where the circle of friends on both sides is very ex- 
tensive, it has of late become customary to send invita- 
tions to such as are not called to the wedding feast, 
to attend the ceremony at church. This stands in 
place of issuing cards. When this rule is observed, it 
is usual, in notifying the marriage jn the newspapers, to 
add the words " No cards." 



1 82 ETIQUETTE FOR FUNERALS. 

ETIQUETTE FOR FUNERALS. 

As the saddest of all events, death, calls for the sym- 
pathy of relatives and friends, there are certain forms 
to be observed out of consideration for the mourners 
and respect for the occasion. 

It is customary to intrust the details of the cere- 
mony to some relative or near friend, who will proceed 
to make all the necessary arrangements, thus relieving 
the members of the family from many painful discussions 
and interviews. Should there be no one to attend to 
the matter, the whole arrangement should be placed in 
the hands of the undertaker. 

The expenses should depend upon the position in 
life of the deceased person, or the means of the sur- 
vivors. The arrangements for the funeral should be 
such as to show proper respect for the dead, rather 
than a pompous display, denoting vulgarity and osten- 
tation ; on the other hand, illiberality or meanness in 
expenditure is to be avoided. 

If invitations are issued, the following form is cus- 
tomary, either written or printed on note paper, edged 
with black, the envelope to correspond : 

Yourself and family are respectfully requested to 
attend the funeral of 

Mr. Joseph L. Elliott, 
from the residence of his mother, Mrs. Mary Elliott, on 
Thursday 27th inst., at two o'clock. 

Interment at Greenwood. 

No. 27 Ave 

Oct. 24th. 



ETIQUETTE FOR FUNERALS. 1 83 

The director of the ceremonies should have a list of 
the invited guests in the order in which they are to be 
placed in the carriages. 

Should no invitations be issued the notice in the 
newspapers should read " without further invitation." 
In this case no especial order is requisite for the plac- 
ing of the guests, who simply follow in the carriages 
after the members of the family. 

. Guests should not present themselves at a funeral 
before the hour appointed, the family paying their last 
sad visit to the coffin previous to that hour, when all 
intrusion upon them is a breach of good manners. 

The remains are usually exposed in the parlor, 
while the family congregate in another room. As the 
period approaches for the last visit, the undertaker will 
notify the family, who, after paying the last respects to 
the remains, will immediately return to the apartment 
from which they issued, remaining there until the close 
of the ceremony. 

In case of the services being held in church, the re- 
mains are placed in front of the chancel, the lid re- 
moved, and the friends (at the end of the service) will 
pass from the feet to the head, up one aisle and down 
another. 

Should the funeral take place at the house, it is 
proper that some relative not immediately connected 
with the family of the deceased should receive the 
guests and do the honors of the occasion. 

As the ladies of the family are not expected to see 
the guests at such a time no one should take offence at 
being refused admittance to their privacy ; in fact it is 
not customary to see the family before the funeral, but 



1 84 ETIQUETTE FOR FUNERALS. 

cards can be sent, and services offered by note. As to 
the gentlemen of the family, it is optional with them. 

Ladies attending a funeral, if not in mourning, should 
dress in grave, quiet colors. 

Gentlemen should remove their hats on entering the 
house and not replace them while there, and should 
conversation ensue, let it be in low grave tones ; loud 
talking or laughing shows disrespect for the dead and 
slight consideration for the grieving family. 

All quarrels or ill feeling between individuals meet- 
ing at a funeral should be forgotten, and all such, more 
especially in the presence of death, are bound by the 
common usage of society, if not by feeling, to salute 
each other with a quiet gravity. 

The privilege of following the remains to the grave 
is denied the ladies of the house by strict etiquette. 

After the services the clergyman leaves the house 
first and enters the carriage (which must be sent in time 
for him to be at the house at the appointed hour) pre- 
ceding the hearse. 

Then follow the remains ; the next carriage is for the 
family and relations, and while the mourners are pass- 
ing the visitors should uncover. 

The undertaker must precede the family as they 
pass to their carriage, open the door, assist them in, 
then closing the door, motion to the driver to move 
forward, while the next carriage advances, and so on 
until all those guests who intend following the remains 
to the grave are seated. 

The same order is to be observed at the church, where 
the undertaker or director of ceremonies assists the 



ETIQUETTE FOR FUNERALS. 1 85 

mourners to leave and re-enter the carriages, the visit- 
ors following after. 

It is left for the family decision as to flowers : for 
children, pure white, and for adults, white and purple, 
ivy, pansies, etc. 

When arrived at the cemetery the clergyman walks 
in advance of the coffin, while the guests assemble 
around the grave. 

In returning from the funeral it is optional with the 
visitors as to returning to the house ; each may direct 
the driver where to convey him. 

Should the family physician attend the funeral he 
should be seated in the carriage immediately following 
that of the family. 

The nearest friends of the deceased are designated 
as pall-bearers, should such arrangement be determined 
upon. 

And for young people the pall-bearers should be 
such of their young friends as they most associated with 
while living. 

People in deep mourning are not expected to pay 
visits of condolence, neither can they accept funeral or 
other invitations ; but all those out of mourning should 
never hesitate in responding by their presence to an in- 
vitation of this kind. 

In the purchase of the necessary mourning for the 
ladies of the family an intimate female friend or near 
relative is the proper person to attend to it, and for 
that of the gentlemen, a male friend or near relative. 

Cards for the family should be left during the week 
following the funeral, and calls can be made on mem- 
bers of the same a fortnight later. 



186 ETIQUETTE FOR FUNERALS. 

In the interval of the death and burial no female 
member of the family should leave the house upon any 
pretext whatever. 

Should the deceased have belonged to a society, the 
members of such order should be invited through a 
note sent to the president of the order, who will arrange 
with the director of the ceremonies as to any special 
forms the said society or order would like to have ob- 
served, if agreeable, always, to the family, and should 
the notice of such death be published in the newspapers 
the name of the lodge, society, or other order to which 
the deceased may have belonged should be carefully 
specified. 

It is not customary, neither is it proper, to send invi- 
tations to attend the funeral of one who has died of a 
contagious disease ; a simple notice of the death, and 
the statement " funeral private," is all that is required, 
and will be readily understood. 

When visiting a cemetery never stand and stare at 
mourners assembled in a lot, neither in any way notice 
those who may be decorating the graves of friends. 



How to Draw and Paint. 

A Complete Handbook on the whole art of Draw- 
ing and Painting, containing concise instructions in 

Outline, Ljght and Shade, Perspective, Sketch 
ing from Nature; 'Figure Drawing, Ar- 
tistic Anatomy, Landscape, Marine, 
and Portrait Painting; 

the principles of Colors applied to Paintings y etc., etc., 
with over 100 Illustrations. 

]2mo, boards, with cloth back. Price 50 cents. 



It must be of great service to all teachers and students of drawing 
and painting.— Davenport (Iowa) Daily Gazette. 

It certainly seems to us the best work of the kind we have met with. 
— The Connecticut Farmer, Hartford. 

How to Draw and Paint, a neat elementary- manual. The little 
work is illustrated with over one hundred engravings, combining accu- 
racy of detail and excellence of execution. The value of the instruc- 
tions lies in their simplicity, and the object of the author is well car- 
ried out : to affcrd the beginners such plain directions as may be at 
once most serviceable, suggestive, and trustworthy.— New York Star. 

An excellent text-book, containing instruction in outline, light 
and shade, perspective, sketching, figure drawing, artistic anatomy, 
landscape, marine, and portrait painting, etc. It also contains over 
one hundred illustrations.— The Golden Rule, Boston, Mass. 



For sale by all Booksellers, or will he sent, post- 
paid, on receipt of price. 

EXCELSIOR PUBLISHING HODSE, 

£d and 31 Beehman Street, New York, N. Y. 



BUj$I]!E$ LETTER tf I(ITEI( 

— AND— 

Book of Commercial Forms, Etc. 

Containing specimen Letters on all possible business top- 
ics, with appropriate answers. There is scarcely a business 
transaction that can happen to an ordinary person in the 
course of his life-time that is not covered by the Letters and 
Replies contained in this work. If you want to hire help, find 
a situation, inquire about prices of goods, buy anything, from 
a paper of pins to a house and lot, borrow or lend money, or 
anything at all, you will find the plainest and most business- 
like methods of expressing your objects and desires, besides 
being able to reply in a suitable manner to the offers and ia- 
quiries of others. Many a good and profitable business trans- 
action has fallen through for want of being expressed in plain, 
clear, and indisputable language. 

Added to this are a great number of Forms for Business 
Papers and Documents, such as 

AGREEMENTS, LEASES, 

PROMISSORY NOTES, MORTGAGES, 

BONDS, RECEIPTS, 

And a Host of Other Forms, 

which require to be correctly worded to be binding and of 
legal force. This is the best Letter Writer for those who are 
thoroughly versed in business matters, and cannot express 
themselves plainly in writing, and it proves of valuable assist- 
ance to those who are well informed, as a handy book of ref- 
erence on doubtful matters of Expression or Form, to which 
is added a comprehensive dictionary of synonyms and abbre- 
viations, also a glossary of Commercial terms. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back. Price 50 cents. 

For sale by all Booksellers, or will be sent, postpaid, on 
receipt of price. 

EXCELSIOR PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

29 and SI Beekman Street, New York, N* Y. 

P. O. Box 1144. 



"EXCELSIOR" 

Series* of* Recitations 

— AND — 

READINGS. 



The great demand for new readings, suitable for Recita- 
tions, and the frequent and earnest solicitations of our patrons, 
are the inducements that led to the idea of getting up a new 
series under the management of a gentleman who has made 
the wants of the people in this line a study for years, and 
understands the character of Recitations and Readings needed. 

Some persons may think that "books of a similar charac- 
ter have been sufficiently multiplied, but in answer to this it 
may with propriety be remarked, that the best evidence that 
such publications are needed is the steady increase of appli- 
cations for books of this class. 

Each and every number of "Excelsior" Series will con- 
tain about 176 pages, bound in a beautiful illustrated cover, 
printed in colors, and sold at the remarkably low price of 25 
cents each. Nos. 1, 2, and 3 are now ready. 

For sale by all Booksellers, or will be sent, postpaid, on 
receipt of price. 

EXCELSIOR PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

99 and 31 Beekman Street, New York % N* Xi 

P. O. Box 1144. 



-THE- 



(©OMPLEJFE DEBAHIEI^. 

CONTAINING 

Debates, Outlines of Debates, and Questions 

for Discussion, to which is added an 

Original and complete Debate on 

Free Trade. 

In addition to these are a large collection of debatable 
questions. 

The authorities to be referred to for information being 
given at the close of every debate throughout the work, mak- 
ing it the most complete work on the subject ever published. 

Containing the following complete.Debates : 

1. Is the Protection afforded to American industry by 
duties on imports beneficial to the American people ? 

2. Which is of the greatest Benefit to his Country, the 
"Warrior, the Statesman, or the Poet ? 

3. Are the Menta* Capacities of the Sexes equal? 

4. Is Capital Punishment justifiable ? 

5. Does Morality increase with Civilization ? 

6. Has the Stage a Moral Tendency ? 

7. Which was the greater Poet, Shakespeare or Milton ? 

8. Which has done the greater Service to Mankind, the 
Printing Press or the Steam Engine ? 

9. Which does the most to make the Orator — Knowledge, 
Nature, or Art ? 

Bound in boards, with cloth back, containing over 200 
pages. Price 50 cents. 

For sale by all Booksellers, or will be sent, postpaid, on 
receipt of price. 

EXCELSIOR PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

29 and 31 Beekman Street, New York, N. Y. 

P. O. Cox 1144. 



THE STANDARD AUTHORITY. 



B 



YRNE'S LUMBER & LOG BOOK, 

READY-RECKONER & PRICE BOOK. 



By OLIVER BYRNE, CMl, Military, ani Mechanical Engineer. 



" Byrne's Ready-Reckoner " is the most concise, complete, 
and correct work ever issued. Among its contents will be found 
Tables arranged to show values from one-sixteenth of a cent each 
upwards ; Tables of Board, Scantling, and Plank Measure ; Logs 
reduced to Board Measure ; Round Timber when Squared : also 
Spars and other Timber ; Wages and Board by the Week ; Interest 
Tables at .06 and .07 per cent from $1.00 to $30,000 ; Compound 
Interest Tables from 1 to 25 years ; Standard Weights and Meas- 
ures ; Gold and Silver Coins of the United States ; Value of 
Foreign Coins as fixed by the Laws of the United States ; Foreign 
measures of Length compared with American ; " How Interest 
Eats"; Laws of each State and Territory regarding Rates of In- 
terest and Penalties for Usury ; Statutes of Limitations in the 
several States and Territories, etc., etc. 

All Comprised in one volume 18mo, of 180 pages, 

bound in illustrated board covers, extra cloth 

back, title in g-old. Price 35 cents. 



i For sale by all Booksellers, or will be sent, postpaid, on re- 
ceipt of price. 

EX6ELSI0R PUBLISHING HOUSE, 
29 and 31 Beekman Street, New York, N. Y. 

P. O. Box 1144. 



Burdett's Dutch Dialect Recita- 
tions and Readings. 

Being No. 1 of the Burdeit Series of Recitations andReadings. This col. 
lection of amusing and laughable Recitations embraces all the newest and 
most successful pieces, original and selected, with which the celebrated 
Reader, Jas. S. Burdett, invariably "brings down the hous*V' besides a 
host of other Dialect Selections in general use by other leading Public 
( Headers of the present day. 

CONTENTS - 



Barbara Frietchie 

B^t?ey und I Hafe Bust Ub 

Charge of de " Dutch Brigade," The 

Deitsche Advertisement 

Dem Ole dimes HabbineBs and dem 

New 

Der Baby 

Der Dog und der Lobster 

Der Drummer 

Der Good Lookin' Shnow 

Der Moon 

Der Mule Shtood on der Steamboad 

Deck - 

Der Nighd Pehind Grisdmas 

Der Schleighride 

Der Wreck of der Hezberus 

Dhree Skaders 

Don'd Feel Too Big 

Dot Funny Leetle Baby 

Dot Lambs vot Mary Haf Got 

Dot Leedle Loweeza 

Dot Loaf of Bread 

Dot Shly Leedle Raskel 

Dot Surprise Party 



Dutchmairs Experience 

Dutchman's Dolly Varden, A 

Dutchman's Telephone, A 

Dutchman's Testimony in a Steam- 
boat Case, A 

Dutchman and the Raven, The .... 

Dutch Recruiting Officer, A 

Dutch Sermon, A 

Dutchman's Serenade, The 

Dutchman's Snake, The - 

Dutchman and the Yankee 

Dyin' Vords of Isaac 

Ein Deut?ches Lied 

Fine Old Dutch Gentleman, The . . . 

Fritz und I 

German Speech of Hcrr Hans Yager, 
The 

Go Vay, Becky Miller, Go Vay .... 

Gosling's Wife Snores -. .. 

Hans Breitmann and the Turners.. 

Hans and Fritz 

Hans in a Fix 

Han's Midnight Excuses 

Hans Sourcrout on Signs and Omens 

Home Again 

How a Dutchman was Done 

How Hans Yager Enjoyed the Opera 

In a handsome illustrated cover. 



How Jake Schneider Went Blind . . 

How " Sockery " Set a Hen 

How the Dutchman Killed the 

Woodchuck 

Initiated as a Member of the United 

Order of Half-Shells 

Isaac Rosenthal on the Chinese 

Question 

I Vash So Glad I Vash Here 

Jew's Troubles, A 

Katrina Likes Me Poody Well...... 

Katrina's Visit to New York 

Life, Liberty and Lager 

Lookout Mountain, 1868— Beutelsh- 

bach, 1880 

Little Yawcob Strauss 

Maud Muller 

Marriage Ceremony, The „ s 

Mine Katrine 

Mine Shildren 

Mr. Schmidt's Mistake 

Mygel Snyder's Barty 

Oration on :he" Labor" Question.. 

Overcoat H Got, The..... 

Pretzel's Speech Before the Jlinois 

Assembly 

Romeo and 'ulie 

Schlausheiraer's Alarming-Glock .. 
Schlausheimer Don't Gonciliato ... 

Schlosser's Ride 

Schneider's Ride 

Schnitzel's Philosopede 

Schneider Sees Leah 

Schneider's Tomatoes 

Shake's Telephone 

Shoo Flies 

Shonny, Don'd You Hear Me f 

Shonny Schwartz 

Snyder's Nose 

Sockery Kadacut's Kat 

Teaching Him the Business 

Temperance Speech 

Tiamonds on der Prain 

To a Friend Studying German 

Touching Appeal, A 

*' Two Tollar " 

Vas Bender Henshpecked 

Yawcob's Losing Deal 

Yankee and the Dutchman's Dog, 

The 

Yoppy Varder unt Hees Droubles.. 

Zwei Lager 

Price, 25 cents. 



For sale by all Booksellers or will be sent post-paid on receipt of price. 

EXCELSIOR PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

p O. Box 1 144 29& 81 BEEKMAN ST., NEW YORK, N. Y, 




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